A  MINISTER  OF  THE  WORLD. 


LADIES'  HOME  JOURNAL 
LIBRARY  OF  FICTION 

VOL.  I. — The  Spirit  of  Sweet- 
water.  By  Hamlin  Gar 
land. 

VOL.  II. — A  Minister  of  the 
World.  By  Caroline  A. 
Mason. 

VOL.  III.— The  People  of 
Our  Neighborhood.  By 
Mary  E.  Wilkins. 

Cloth,  fifty  cents  each. 


LADIES'  HOME  JOURNAL 
LIBRARY  OF  FICTION 


A   MINISTER  OF 
THE  WORLD 


BY 

CAROLINE  ATWATER  MASON 


PHOTOGRAVURES    FROM    DRAWINGS    BY 

W.  T.  SMEDLEY 


PHILADELPHIA 

CURTIS  PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 


NEW  YORK 
DOUBLEDAY 


McCLURE  CO. 


Copyright,  1895,  by 
THE  CURTIS  PUBLISHING  Co. 

Copyright,  1897,  by 
A.   D.   F.   RANDOLPH  &  Co. 


Copyright,  1898,  by 

DOUBLEDAY    &    McCtURE    Co. 


A  Minister  of  the  World. 


TAKE  any  of  the  sons  our  age  has  nursed, 
Fed  with  her  food  and  taught  her  best  and  worst ; 
Suppose  no  great  disaster  ;  look  not  nigh 
On  hidden  hours  of  his  extremity  ; 
But  watch  him  like  the  flickering  magnet  stirred 
By  each  imponderable  look  and  word, 
And  think  how  firm  a  courage  every  day 
He  needs  to  bear  him  on  life's  common  way, 
Since  even  at  the  best  his  spirit  moves 
Thro'  such  a  tourney  of  conflicting  loves, — 
Unwisely  sought,  xintruly  called  untrue  ; 
Beloved  and  hated  and  beloved  anew  ; 
Till  in  the  changing  whirl  of  praise  and  blame 
He  feels  himself  the  same  and  not  the  same ; 
***** 

And  often  idly  hopeless,  often  bent 

On  some  tumultuous  deed  and  vehement, 

Because  his  spirit  he  can  nowise  fit 

To  the  world's  ways  and  settled  rule  of  it, 

But  thro'  contented  thousands  travels  on 

Like  a  sad  heir  in  disinherison. 

FREDERIC  "W.  H.  MYERS. 


A  MINISTER  OF  THE  WORLD 


CHAPTER  I 

'Twas  one  of  the  charmed  days 

When  the  genius  of  God  doth  flow, 
The  wind  may  alter  twenty  ways, 

A  tempest  cannot  blow. 
It  may  blow  north,  it  still  is  warm  ; 

Or  south,  it  still  is  clear  ; 
Or  east,  it  smells  like  a  clover-farm ; 

Or  west,  no  thunder  fear. 

EMERSON. 

THEEE  is  a  row  of  locust-trees  in 
front  of  the  parsonage  at  Thornton,  on 
the  outer  edge  of  the  sidewalk,  and  it 
seemed  on  this  particular  June  after 
noon  as  if  all  the  upper  spaces  of  the  air 
were  occupied  by  the  fragrance  of  their 
pale,  wind-blown  blossoms.  Below,  on 
our  own  level,  was  the  spicy  breath  of 
the  garden  roses  and  the  honest,  heavy 
5 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

sweetness  of  the  syringa.  But  the  fra 
grance  of  the  locust  hlossoms  has  a 
peculiarly  aerial,  elusive  quality,  in 
fact,  a  certain  loftiness,  as  if  it  knew 
that  its  family  had  seen  better  days  and 
was  not  held  in  the  high  regard  of  an 
earlier  time,  and  hence  it  would  not 
descend  to  delight  the  sense  of  the  sor 
did  folk  with  free  bestowal.  Still  more 
delicate  and  more  elusive  was  the  scent 
of  the  grapevine  blossom  ;  but  this 
was  shyness  without  the  assumption  of 
superiority.  It  was  forever  coming  to 
you  from  around  a  corner,  but  if  you 
went  to  the  corner  to  catch  it,  it  would 
have  escaped  you.  All  of  these  pre 
cious  odors,  and  I  dare  not  say  how 
many  more,  were  making  the  air  around 
the  parsonage  intoxicating  that  early 
afternoon. 

The  house  was  a  white  cottage  with 
a  wide  front  and  a  small  veranda  on 
which  the  house  door  stood  open  direct 
ly  into  the  sitting-room.  There  was  a 
cleanly  swept,  home-woven  carpet  on 
6 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

the  floor  of  this  room,  a  table  with  a 
red  cotton  cover,  and  on  a  white  paint 
ed  shelf,  between  two  vases  filled  with 
garden  flowers,  a  clock  ticked  with 
sharp  emphasis  from  its  Gothic  wooden 
case.  The  emptiness  and  orderliness  of 
the  room,  the  open  door,  the  very 
silence  itself,  seemed  to  impart  a  sense 
of  expectancy,  but  no  one  was  to  be 
seen.  Outside  the  bees  hummed  drow 
sily  in  the  yellow  roses,  which  were  daz- 
zlingly  bright  in  the  broad  sunshine  ;  a 
light  breeze  passed  now  and  then  over 
the  grass  ;  it  grew  as  high  as  the  pal 
ings  of  the  fence  on  either  side  of  the 
walk,  and  it  was  already  ripe  for  the 
scythe.  It  had  been  an  early  spring  in 
Thornton.  Fairly  swamped  in  the  tall 
timothy  stood  deep  red  peonies,  their 
petals  dropping  and  drifting  heedlessly 
around  them  in  the  sea-green  depths  of 
the  grass.  Standing  on  the  walk  be 
tween  the  clumps  of  peonies  one  could 
look  down  across  the  clover-fields  which 
adjoined  the  parsonage  acre  and  see 
7 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

the  lovely  Thornton  valley,  with  its 
smooth  green  meadows,  its  graceful 
elm-trees  dotted  along  the  river's  bank, 
and  the  wooded  slopes  of  the  enclosing 
hills.  Beyond  the  parsonage,  as  one 
looked  up  the  village  street,  stood  the 
white  church,  with  its  square,  ungrace 
ful  tower,  and  its  uncompromising  aus 
terity  of  outline.  A  row  of  maple-trees 
grew  before  it,  concealing  the  village 
from  view.  But  there  was  not  much 
to  conceal.  Thornton  was  only  a  clus 
ter  of  houses,  each  a  farmhouse  in  its 
way,  with  a  church,  a  post-office,  a 
store,  and  a  blacksmith's  shop,  to  sup 
ply  the  actual  needs  of  the  surrounding 
neighborhood.  For  those  who  con 
fessed  to  complex  and  ambitious  de 
mands  there  was  Pembroke,  the  county- 
seat,  only  seven  miles  away,  where 
were  to  be  found  all  the  refinements 
and  luxuries  of  life.  But  Pembroke, 
with  its  noise  of  locomotives  and  fac 
tories,  was  well  out  of  sight  and  hear 
ing,  and  Thornton  dozed  on  in  its 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

dreamy  stillness,  undisturbed  thus  far, 
even  by  the  advent  of  the  ' '  summer 
boarder,"  an  unconscious,  unspoiled, 
country  village. 

Down  the  street  a  light  open  wagon 
containing  two  women,  one  of  whom 
was  driving  the  somewhat  spiritless 
horse,  could  now  be  seen  approaching 
the  parsonage.  The  clock  on  the  white 
shelf  had  just  drawn  up  all  its  vibrations 
into  a  single  distinct  effort  and  clanged 
out  two  resonant  strokes.  A  slender, 
gray-haired  woman  in  a  checked  cotton 
gown  and  white  apron  came  out  to  the 
door  just  as  the  clock  struck,  and  stood 
watching  the  horse  and  wagon  as  they 
drew  near. 

"  It's  Lecty  and  Aunt  Elizy,  I  de 
clare  !"  she  exclaimed  in  a  shrill  but 
gentle  voice.  "  They've  got  here  first 
of  all  !" 

There  was  silence  in  the  house  as  be 
fore,  and  after  a  moment's  pause  the 
woman  stepped  back  within  the  room, 
and  addressing  herself  toward  a  door 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

which  stood  open  on  the  left,  she 
cried  : 

"  Stephen,  don't  yon  hear  what  I 
say?  Lecty  Sanbonvs  bringing  Aunt 
Elizy  ;  they've  turned  in  already,  and 
you  must  hurry  and  help  her  to  get  out 
of  the  wagon." 

In  the  room  beyond,  at  an  oblong  ta 
ble  covered  with  green  enamelled  cloth, 
a  young  man  wras  sitting  in  his  shirt 
sleeves  with  his  back  to  the  door,  writ 
ing.  The  room  was  not  a  large  one. 
and  its  walls  were  nearly  lined  with 
bookshelves,  rising  two-thirds  of  the 
distance  to  the  low  ceiling.  Above  the 
books  facing  the  door  hung  a  photo 
graph  of  Ilolman  Hunt's  "  Light  of  the 
World.'1 

On  being  thus  appealed  to,  the  young 
man  rose  from  the  table,  stretched  one 
long  arm  up  behind  the  door,  and  pro 
duced  a  coat,  which  he  drew  on  as  lie 
crossed  the  sitting-room  with  a  few 
strides  and  followed  the  woman,  who 
was  his  mother,  out  through  the  clean, 
10 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

sunny  kitchen  to  the  horse-block  at 
the  side  of  the  house.  He  was  a  tall, 
athletic  fellow,  this  Stephen  Castle, 
looking  less  than  his  eight-and-twenty 
years,  with  light  hair  close  cropped,  a 
finely  browned  skin,  and  a  pair  of  good 
gray  eyes.  There  was  about  him  in 
rare  degree  that  indefinable  personal 
attraction  which  gives  charm  to  every 
word  and  motion  of  some  men  and 
women.  His  face  wore  the  stamp  of 
thought  and  study,  and  indeed  there 
was  upon  it  a  suggestion  of  spiritual 
purity  and  earnestness,  which  united 
with  the  boyish  freedom  of  his  move 
ments  and  his  thoroughgoing  manliness 
to  make  a  peculiarly  winning  personal 
ity,  even  to  one  who  saw  him  only  for 
a  moment.  He  was  the  pastor  of  the 
church  in  Thornton,  and  had  been  for 
four  years,  coining  thither  direct  from 
the  divinity  school.  With  him  came 
his  mother,  a  widow,  who,  having  no 
other  child,  followed  him  wherever  he 
went,  making  a  home  for  him  and  de 
ll 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

voting  herself  to  him  and  his  interests 
absolutely.  Mrs.  Castle  had  been 
country  born  and  bred  herself,  and 
Stephen  had  pursued  his  studies  in  the 
humbler  and  more  rural  schools  of  New 
England,  so  that  neither  of  them  felt 
anything  of  deprivation  or  sacrifice  in 
settling  in  a  little  village  like  Thornton 
and  adapting  themselves  to  the  ways  of 
a  farming  parish.  Indeed,  Stephen 
Castle  would  not  have  believed  that  he 
could  have  been  in  his  element  in  a  city 
church.  lie  doubted  whether  lie  was 
man  enough  to  preach  to  this  handful 
of  country  folk  ;  he  had  not  learned  his 
own  powers  yet  ;  his  weaknesses  he 
thought  he  clearly  understood. 

Four  years  were  not  needed,  even 
with  the  slow  and  unenthusiastic  habit 
of  Xew  England  country  people,  to 
win  for  the  young  pastor  the  almost 
adoring  love  of  his  parishioners.  They 
petted  and  praised  him  ;  boasted  of 
him  wherever  they  went  ;  treasured 
and  repeated  the  things  he  said,  as  men 

12 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

do  the  sayings  of  a  darling  child  ; 
gloried  in  his  physical  and  intellectual 
strength,  and  yet  more  in  his  obvious 
weaknesses  ;  and,  in  fine,  idolized  him 
and  spoiled  him  as  far  as  this  kind  of 
devotion  could.  Stephen  was  of  too 
fine  a  nature  to  become  vain  or  assum 
ing  ;  if  he  grew  somewhat  imperious, 
it  was  in  so  fine  a  degree  that  it  merely 
served  to  attract  men  and  women  more 
irresistibly  to  him. 

He  stood  now  on  the  rough  stone 
block  before  the  kitchen  door,  and  lifted 
the  little  old  lady  whom  his  mother 
called  "  Aunt  Elizy"  from  the  wagon 
as  easily  as  if  she  had  been  a  child,  then 
holding  her  withered,  chilly  little  hands 
in  his,  which  were  warm  and  steady, 
he  looked  with  a  deference  which  sat 
well  upon  him  into  her  face,  and  said  : 

"  It  was  very  good  of  you  to  come, 
Aunt  Eliza  ;  you  don't  know  how  glad 
and  proud  you  make  us. ' ' 

The  old  lady  was  dressed  in  a  black 
silk  gown  and  an  old-fashioned  fringed 
13 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

mantilla.  She  wore  a  large  black  bon 
net,  under  which  appeared  the  snow- 
white  crinkled  frill  of  her  cap  and  some 
soft  gray  hair.  Her  face  was  fairly 
tiny  and  much  wrinkled,  but  sensitive 
and  refined  in  its  expression,  and  the 
hazel  eyes  had  almost  the  brightness  of 
young  eyes,  as  she  looked  up  with  a 
certain  archness,  which  in  some  women 
lasts  a  lifetime,  and  said  : 

'•  Then  why  don't  you  kiss  me,  Ste 
phen  ?' ' 

At  this  the  middle-aged  woman,  who 
still  sat  in  the  wagon,  threw  back  her 
head  and  laughed. 

"  If  you  don  t  beat  all  !  Aunt  Elizy," 
she  exclaimed.  •'  I'd  never  have 
brought  you  down  here  if  I'd  s' posed 
you  were  goin'  to  perform  like  this. 
Mis'  Castle,  I  shouldn't  think  you'd 
stand  there  and  allow  such  goin's  on." 

Quite  regardless  of  her  noisy  banter, 

Stephen  bent  and   gravely   kissed  the 

little  lady,  and  then,  drawing  her  hand 

into  his  arm,   he  carefully  led  her  up 

14 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

the  steps  and  into  the  house.  It  was 
only  the  door  of  a  very  humble  country 
parsonage,  but  the  young  man's  chival 
rous  courtesy  and  the  old  lady's  quiet 
grace  and  fine  manner  would  have  been 
in  place  at  the  entrance  to  a  royal 
house. 


15 


"Whate'er  the  scene  presented  to  her  view. 
That  was  the  best,  to  that  she  was  attuneu 
By  her  benign  simplicity  of  life, 
And  through  a  perfect  happiness  of  soul. 

WORDSWORTH. 

ONE  after  another,  at  longer  or  short 
er  intervals,  half  a  dozen  carriages  were 
now  driven  into  the  parsonage  yard, 
and  their  owners  were  received  by 
Mrs.  Castle  and  conducted  to  her  own 
bedroom.  Having  laid  aside  their  bon 
nets  and  frowned  for  an  instant  at 
their  front  hair  in  the  looking-glass, 
they  crossed  the  large  and  rather  empty 
sitting-room  and  entered  the  parlor, 
where  chairs  and  tables  had  been  pushed 
to  the  wall  to  leave  all  the  middle  space 
free  for  the  cjuilting-frame,  on  which 
was  stretched  a  marvellous  piece  of 

Mrs.    Castle's   handiwork,   constructed 
16 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

of  small  cotton  squares  of  nearly  every 
color  united  by  bands  of  white. 

"  Ain't  it  a  beauty?" 

"There  don't  anything  beat  Irish 
chain,  does  there,  Mis'  Castle  ?" 

"  What  if  we  should  spoil  it  in  the 
quiltin'  ?  I'm  most  afraid  to  touch  it, 
it  is  so  handsome." 

These  and  majiy  kindred  exclama 
tions  were  made  as  the  guests  entered 
the  cool  parlor  and  took  the  places  as 
signed  them  by  Mrs.  Castle  around  the 
quilting-frame.  Aunt  Eliza  alone  did 
not  join  the  party,  but  sat  in  state  in  a 
high-backed,  haircloth-covered  easy- 
chair,  with  a  little  white  knitting  work 
in  her  hands.  More  gently  born  and 
bred  than  her  neighbors,  being  a  fine 
illustration  of  the  "  old  school"  type  of 
woman,  Aunt  Eliza's  presence  was 
greatly  desired  in  the  Thornton  gather 
ings  as  imparting  something  of  distinc 
tion.  Her  advanced  age  and  increasing 
feebleness,  however,  generally  served 
as  sufficient  reason  for  refusing  all  invi- 
17 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

tations,  hence  Mrs.  Castle's  "quilting" 
was  held  to  be  highly  favored,  and 
many  admiring  remarks  were  made  to 
the  effect  that  "  Aunt  Elizy  was  just  as 
smart  as  ever,"  and  that  "  she  wouldn't 
have  come  anywhere  else  only  to  the 
parsonage,  but  of  course  she  knoAv  it 
would  please  Mr.  Castle,  and  wa'n't  it 
a  sight  to  see  how  attentive  he  was  to 
her  ?  And  to  hear  her  call  him  Ste 
phen  !"  The  story  of  the  kiss  at  the 
kitchen  door  was  speedily  set  in  circu 
lation,  and  awakened  a  vast  amount  of 
subdued  hilarity,  of  the  form  considered 
suitable  to  a  party  at  the  parsonage. 
As  "  Lecty,"  or  Mrs.  Wescott,  the 
niece  of  Aunt  Eliza  who  had  accom 
panied  her,  confided  to  her  right-hand 
neighbor  at  the  quilt  : 

"  It  ain't  goin'  to  do  to  '  train  '  too 
hard  when  you  come  to  the  ministers 
house." 

The  disposition  to  "  train,"  however, 
was  not  to  be  wholly  suppressed,  and 
presently  Mrs.  'Wescott  remarked,  with 
18 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

a  peculiarly  mischievous  glance  at  a 
fair-haired  girl  in  a  white  gown,  who 
had  come  with  her  mother,  and  was 
quilting  demurely  at  her  side  : 

"  I  don't  know  what  the  rest  thinks, 
and  I  don't  hardly  dare  to  say  anything 
before  Mis'  Castle,  but,  after  all,  it 
does  strike  me  that  there's  something 
awful  suspicious  about  this  quilt." 
Then  looking  over  her  shoulder,  she 
cried  in  mock  consternation  :  "  Oh, 
my  gracious,  the  Elder  ain't  nowheres 
about,  is  he  ?'; 

' '  Why,  Lecty ,  what  do  you  mean  ?' ' 
asked  one  of  the  women. 

"  Don't  ask  me,  I  don't  dare  to  say 
another  word  ;  Mis'  Castle  looks  so 
sober  I'm  scared,  and  if  the  Elder  heard 
me  he  might  turn  me  out  of  meetin' . 
But  there's  one  thing  about  it,"  she 
cried,  the  sense  of  fun  flashing  from  her 
black  eyes,  "if  he  does,  I'll  just  tell 
the  deacons  I  saw  him  kissin'  Aunt 
Elizy  outside  the  kitchen  door,  right 
under  them  old  locust-trees,  with  my 
19 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

own  eyes  !"  And  at  this  she  burst  out 
into  a  hearty  fit  of  laughter,  in  which 
everybody  joined — everybody,  that  is, 
except  Aunt  Eliza.  She  was  not  known 
to  have  laughed  aloud  since  her  husband 
died,  twenty  years  ago. 

"  But  what  is  it  you  mean,  Lee, 
about  this  quilt  being  suspicious  ?"  asked 
the  hostess  when  the  laughter  had  sub 
sided.  "  I  am  sure  I  don't  under 
stand." 

"  Oh,  now,  Mis'  Castle,  don't  you  be 
too  innocent.  You  know  I  always 
speak  right  out  and  say  what  all  the 
rest  thinks.  It  ain't  to  be  supposed 
that  our  minister  is  goin'  to  live  single 
all  his  days,  when  every  girl  between 
Thornton  Four  Corners  and  Pembroke 
is  makin'  eyes  at  him,  and  I  don't 
know's  I  wonder  any  ;  I'd  make  eyes 
at  him  myself  if  'twould  be  any  use 
— that  is,  if  Hiram  hadn't  any  objec 
tions,"  she  added,  with  a  quaint  wit 
which  made  her  the  leader  of  conversa 
tion  in  all  the  Thornton  gatherings. 
20 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"  When  folks  go  to  makin'  quilts,"  she 
went  on  soberly,  "  when  it's  very  well 
known  that  they  have  a  whole  shelf  full 
put  away  already,  why  it  begins  to 
look  as  if—  '  here  she  paused  in  pre 
tended  embarrassment. 

"  Looks  as  if  what,  Lee?  Go  on  !" 
was  the  general  cry. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  with  a  toss  of  her 
head,  "I  ain't  sure  myself  that  it's 
proper  for  Liny  Barry  to  be  workin'  on 
this  quilt.  I've  noticed  the  Elder  likes 
her  singin'  pretty  well  lately,  haven't 
you,  Mis'  Sanford  ?' ' 

A  shriek  of  laughter  greeted  this 
sally,  and  the  young  girl  thus  alluded 
to  blushed  rosy  red,  and  bent  lower 
over  her  needle,  her  mother,  a  digni 
fied,  matronly  woman,  seeming  not  at 
all  displeased  at  this  form  of  attack, 
which  she  judged  it  best,  however,  not 
to  prolong  too  far.  Turning  to  Mrs. 
Castle,  she  said  : 

' '  I  put  a  basket  of  doughnuts  under 
the  seat  of  our  buggy  when  we  came 
21 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

away.  I  don't  know  whether  Mr.  Cas 
tle  took  them  out.  but  I  meant  him  to." 

"While  Mrs.  Castle  was  expressing 
her  gratitude,  the  company  at  the  (milt 
were  joining  in  a  chorus  of  praise  of 
Mrs.  Barry's  doughnuts,  which,  it  ap 
peared,  were  famous  throughout  Thorn 
ton,  and  the  despair  of  all  the  other 
housewives,  who  lamented  that  they 
"  couldn't  give  them  just  the  twist,  and 
turn  them  out  just  so  light  and  soft  and 
yellow  as  Drusilly  could." 

Meanwhile,  Stephen  Castle,  whose 
doings  and  sayings  and  preferences 
were  directly  or  indirectly  the  subject 
of  most  of  the  conversation  in  the  par 
lor,  had  again  laid  aside  his  coat,  bor 
rowed  a  scythe  of  his  nearest  neighbor, 
and  was  now  hard  at  work  mowing  the 
tall  timothy  in  the  front  yard.  Of  the 
women  gathered  around  the  quilt,  Lina 
Barry  alone  had  discovered  this  fact, 
and  through  the  half-closed  shutters  of 
one  parlor  window  she  was  enjoying  all 
to  herself  the  sight  of  the  athletic  grace 
22 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

of  motion  with  which  the  young  minis 
ter  performed  this  labor,  which  to  her 
seemed  so  far  beneath  him. 

Down  on  his  knees,  Stephen  was  pull 
ing  out  the  grass  close  to  the  crimson 
peonies,  which  he  could  not  cut  with 
the  scythe  without  beheading  the  flow 
ers,  when  a  clear  voice  behind  him 
said  : 

"  I  should  think  you  would  get  a 
lawn-mower,  and  try  to  make  it  look 
nice  here,  Mr.  Castle.  It  has  been 
dreadful  the  way  you  have  let  that 
grass  grow." 

Turning  his  head  slightly,  the  young 
man  greeted  the  speaker  by  waving  a 
handful  of  grass  toward  her. 

"You  will  excuse  me,  perhaps,  if  I 
do  not  rise, ' '  he  said  briefly.  ' '  I  am 
crushed  by  your  severity,  Emily. " 

"  Oh,  no,  you  are  not  !"  the  girl  re 
torted  gayly.  "  You  are  only  trying 
to  gain  time  to  defend  yourself. " 

Upon  this  Stephen  sprang  to  his  feet 
and  turned  full  upon  her. 
23 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"What  an  absurd  idea,"  he  ex 
claimed,  "  that  I  should  try  to  make  a 
fashionable,  sheared  lawn  of  my  old 
dooryard  !  I  should  hate  it  if  it  tried 
to  look  like  something  it  could  never 
be.  I  love  this  tall,  waving  timothy, 
and  besides,  I  am  too  good  a  farmer  to 
waste  so  much  good  hay,  with  Doll 
there  in  the  barn  to  eat  it." 

The  girl  before  him  laughed  merrily 
at  the  energy  of  his  defence. 

"  You  got  out  of  it  better  than  I  ex 
pected,"  she  returned  ;  then  holding 
out  her  hands,  which  were  full  of  books, 
"  See,"  she  said,  "  I  have  brought  your 
books  back.  Where  shall  I  leave 
them?" 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  why,  in  the  study,  if  you 
will,  for  my  mother  has  cleared  out  the 
sitting-room  for  the  company  tea,  you 
know." 

"  I  will  find  their  places  on  the  book 
shelves,  if  you  like.  I  think  I  know 
where  they  belong." 

"Thanks.     Do  so." 

24 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

And  Stephen  again  lifted  his  scythe, 
while  Emily  Merle  passed,  light  of  foot 
and  heart,  into  the  parsonage.  She 
was  a  slender  girl,  with  dark  hair  and 
eyes,  not  strikingly  pretty,  but  notice 
able  for  her  bright  and  joyous  look, 
and  the  frank,  spirited  self-reliance 
which  was  conveyed  in  her  voice  and 
expression.  There  was  no  meek  ador 
ing  in  her  eyes  as  they  met  Stephen 
Castle's,  but  rather  a  challenge,  which, 
although  playful,  was  sufficient  to  put 
him  on  his  mettle.  Plainly  it  did  not 
suit  him  to  have  this  clear-eyed  young 
woman  suspect  him  of  laziness. 

Entering  the  study  alone,  Emily  hesi 
tated  a  moment,  yielding  to  an  uncon 
querable  shyness.  In  spite  of  herself, 
this  room  seemed  a  kind  of  shrine  into 
which  she  scarcely  dared  to  enter  with 
out  its  master.  On  the  writing-table 
lay  several  broad  sheets  of  manuscript, 
written  in  a  bold  handwriting,  which 
she  recognized.  She  was  afraid  she 
might  read  the  very  words  of  the  next 
25 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Sabbath  sermon,  and  that  would  have 
seemed  to  her  like  an  almost  profane 
intrusion  upon  holy  things. 

She  crossed  quickly  to  the  book 
shelves,  and  stood  before  them  trying 
to  see  the  spaces  where  the  books  be 
longed  which  she  had  brought.  The 
room  was  almost  dusky,  the  grapevines 
grew  so  closely  about  the  open  win- 
doAvs,  with  their  thick,  green  shade, 
and  the  air  was  strangely  sweet.  As 
she  stood,  intently  looking,  she  was 
aware  of  the  vine  being  pushed  aside, 
and  Stephen  Castle's  face  appeared  out 
side  the  window. 

Emily  could  not  control  the  quick 
color  which  rose  in  her  cheeks,  but 
without  turning  her  head  she  said 
quietly  : 

"  I  see  where  the  '  Saint  Augustine  ' 
belongs — on  the  upper  shelf,  and  the 
'  Martineau, '  here,  of  course,"  and 
then  she  hesitated. 

' '  Put  the  '  Natural  Law  '  down  on 
my  desk,  if  you  will  ;  I  shall  want  it  to 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

refer  to.  Did  you  like  it  ?' '  Stephen 
asked. 

' '  Yes,  although  I  am  afraid  it  is  not 
all  true.  But,  do  you  know,  I  think 
you  have  marked  it  so  oddly  ?  •  Some 
of  the  parts  which  I  call  weak  you  have 
marked  for  especial  power." 

"  Show  me  one,  please." 

'*  I  can't  now.  I  am  going  in  the 
other  room  to  quilt.  That  is  what  I 
came  for,  you  know. ' ' 

' '  Never  mind  the  quilting.  I  want 
you  to  bring  the  book  over  here  and  let 
me  see  what  you  mean. ' ' 

Stephen  Castle  said  these  words  in  a 
tone  which  Emily  found  it  hard  to  re 
sist,  although  she  had  an  instinctive 
feeling  that  she  ought  not  to  be  linger 
ing  in  the  study,  but  in  a  moment  their 
heads  Avere  bending  together  over  the 
book  which  lay  on  the  window-sill  be 
tween  them,  and  the  sunlight  sifted 
down  through  the  leaves  upon  its  pages, 
etching  sharp  shadows,  which  darted  in 
endless  motion  beneath  their  eyes. 
27 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Emily's  questionings  were  clear-cut  and 
bright  as  the  glancing  lights  and  shad 
ows,  and  Stephen  found  keen  enjoy 
ment  in  defending  and  explaining  to 
her  quick  perception  his  own  and  his 
favorite  author's  positions,  while  needle 
and  scythe  were  alike  forgotten. 

In  the  parlor,  where  the  work  seemed 
now  to  grow  tiresome,  and  the  conver 
sation  dull,  Lina  Barry  looked  in  vain 
from  the  window  and  wondered  why 
the  mower  had  so  suddenly  vanished, 
and  whether  he  would  not  return.  She 
had  not  seen  Emily  Merle  when  she 
came  up  the  walk,  nor  heard  her  voice. 
Emily  Merle  was  the  daughter  of  a 
clergyman  who  had  been  pastor  of  the 
Thornton  Church  for  years,  and  who 
had  now  retired  from  the  active  work 
of  the  ministry  by  reason  of  bodily  in 
firmity.  They  lived  in  a  brick  man 
sion,  rich  with  ivy,  on  an  estate  just 
out  of  the  village  which  had  been  Mrs. 
Merle's  inheritance.  As  Emily  was  the 
only  child,  her  education  had  been  the 

28 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

constant  study  of  her  parents,  and  she 
had,  under  her  father's  teaching,  be 
come  a  fine  scholar  in  classic  as  well  as 
modern  studies.  Her  vigorous  intellect 
and  comprehension,  ho  wever,  were 
united  to  a  peculiarly  sympathetic  na 
ture,  and  thus  her  culture  and  position 
never  became  a  barrier  between  her  and 
the  people  among  whom  she  lived. 
She  mingled  freely  with  them  with  no 
sense  of  superiority  ;  in  every  home, 
however  humble,  in  Thornton  she  was 
a  welcome  guest. 

Stephen  Castle,  coming  to  the  place 
as  a  stranger,  had  found  in  Emily  Merle 
an  invaluable  ally.  Clear  and  impartial 
in  her  perceptions,  she  was  able  to  give 
the  young  pastor  a  co-operation  which 
he  could  find  nowhere  else.  They  had 
become  close  friends  and  fellow-work 
ers,  but  the  relation  between  them  was 
of  frank  comradeship,  untouched,  ap 
parently,  by  sentiment. 


29 


CIIAPTEE   III 

I  watch  thy  grace  ;  and  in  its  place 
My  heart  a  charm'd  slumber  keeps, 
While  I  muse  upon  thy  face, 
And  a  languid  fire  creeps 
Thro'  my  veins  to  all  my  frame, 
Dissolvingly  and  slowly. 

TENNYSON. 

"  I  GUESS  there's  goin'  to  be  a  good 
turn-out  to-day."  It  \vas  Mrs.  AYes- 
cott,  better  known  in  Thornton  as 
'•  Lecty,''  who  spoke  in  a  loud  whisper, 
turning  at  right  angles  in  her  pew  to 
speak  to  Mrs.  Barry  in  the  seat  behind 
her. 

It  was  the  first  Sunday  in  July,  a 
few  weeks  after  Mrs.  Castle's  quilting 
party,  and  nearly  time  for  the  morning 
service  to  begin.  The  interior  of  the 
little  church  was  bare  and  dull,  but  it 
was  scrupulously  clean,  and  the  dark 
30 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

green  blinds,  closed  behind  the  tall,  un- 
colored  windows,  softened  the  light, 
while  they  permitted  spots  and  bars  of 
sunshine  to  strike  through  here  and 
there.  Behind  the  pulpit,  on  the  gray 
wall,  a  group  of  fluted  pillars  was  paint 
ed  in  fresco,  the  painter  intending  to 
convey  to  the  congregation  the  illusion 
that  an  alcove  extended  backward  at 
that  point  ;  but  the  perspective  was 
such  that  no  child  was  ever  known  to 
be  deceived.  Counting  and  comparing 
those  painted  pillars,  however,  was  the 
prime  employment  of  the  Thornton 
children  of  tender  years  during  the 
hours  of  service,  and  they  thus  served  a 
purpose,  if  not  that  entertained  by  their 
designer.  There  was  a  black  haircloth 
sofa  in  front  of  the  pillars  ;  behind  the 
mahogany  pulpit,  and  at  one  side,  stood 
a  small,  unsteady  table,  on  which  this 
morning  had  been  placed  a  painted 
glass  vase  of  "  hundred-leaf"  roses. 
At  the  opposite  end  of  the  church,  in  a 
high  gallery,  behind  a  railing  and  a 
31 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

green  curtain,  were  the  singers'  seats 
and  the  organ. 

The  congregation  did  not  increase 
rapidly,  nor  even  very  perceptibly,  but 
one  after  another  small  groups  of 
women  and  children  and  young  girls 
came  quietly  in  and  took  their  seats, 
while  at  intervals,  after  each  group,  a 
sunburned  man  or  boy  would  slip  into 
the  end  of  the  pew  beside  his  <;  women 
folks,7'  having  disposed  of  his  horses 
and  had  his  Sunday  morning  chat  with 
his  neighbors  under  the  meeting-house 
sheds. 

The  young  girls  were  in  most  cases 
dressed  in  white,  with  a  liberal  use  of 
blue  and  pink  ribbons.  Their  faces 
wore  a  look  of  shyness,  amounting 
nearly  to  an  absence  of  expression. 
The  older  women  occasionally  smiled 
and  nodded  to  those  who  sat  near  them, 
and  a  few  were  chatting  in  whispers, 
but  there  was,  on  the  whole,  a  sober 
silence  throughout  the  room.  On  the 
table  below  the  pulpit  a  bar  of  sunlight 
32 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

touched  to  an  almost  mystic  splendor 
the  silver  vessels  and  the  snow-white 
linen  of  the  communion  feast,  which 
was  this  morning  spread  before  the 
people.  Seeing  this,  a  more  impressi 
ble  person  here  and  there  sat  with  head 
slightly  bent,  but  the  greater  part  ab 
stained  from  even  this  degree  of  expres 
sion.  Emily  Merle,  in  a  shaded  corner, 
had  sat  since  taking  her  seat  with  her 
forehead  dropped  upon  her  hand.  Her 
father,  a  white-haired,  venerable  man, 
sat  beside  her  with  closed  eyes  and  with 
a  devout  expression  upon  his  face. 

Meanwhile,  as  the  congregation  grad 
ually  increased,  Lecty  continued  her 
whispered  observations,  saying  now  : 

"  Hayin's  over  and  harvestin'  hain't 
begun  yet,  and  there  isn't  anything  to 
keep  folks  from  comin'  to  meetin'  if 
they  wanted  to." 

"  That's  so,"  returned  Mrs.  Barry  ; 

"  by  next  Sunday  the  men  '11  say  the 

horses  have  got  to  rest.     The  wheat's 

ripe  already  down  in  our  south  lot,  and 

33 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Amasa  says  he  shall  begin  cuttin'  there 
to-morrow  mornin',  and  after  that,  you 
know,  there  won't  be  much  let-up,  not 
till  the  wheat's  all  in."  Then,  sud 
denly  interrupting  herself,  she  touched 
Lecty's  hand,  which  hung  over  the  back 
of  the  seat,  and  which  held  a  sprig  of 
fennel,  and  whispered  with  lively  inter 
est,  %;  Say,  Lee,  who's  that?'' 

Both  women  were  looking  now  at  a 
small  company  of  people  who  were  pass 
ing  up  the  central  aisle — a  man  and  two 
ladies,  one  of  whom  was  leading  a 
child. 

£i  Why,  that's  Lorenzo  Deering." 
whispered  Lecty  promptly,  ''  and  that's 
his  wife,  her  with  the  young  one.  She's 
a  second  wife  ;  his  first  wife  was  a 
Cutter,  don't  you  remember?  They 
live  in  that  big  brown  house  on  the 
pike,  most  to  Pembroke,  and  they  don't 
very  often  go  anywheres  to  meetin'.  I 
guess,  but  I've  seen  him  here  once  or 
twice  evenin's  this  spring.  Guess  he 
likes  to  hear  Elder  Castle  preach." 
34 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"  But  who  is  with  them,  that  other 
one?"  questioned  Mrs.  Barry. 

"  I  don't  know,"  Lecty  confessed  re 
luctantly,  adding,  "  Hush  !  there's  the 
minister. ' ' 

The  small  organ  was  piping  shrilly 
as  Stephen  Castle  walked  up  the  aisle, 
ascended  the  platform,  and  seated  him 
self  behind  the  pulpit.  Every  eye  was 
upon  him,  and  a  sudden  hush  seemed  to 
fall  upon  the  people  as  he  bowed  his 
head,  and  so  sat  before  them  in  silent 
prayer.  However  boyish  and  merry 
he  might  be  in  his  e very-day  mood, 
however  free  and  accessible  in  his  min 
istrations  to  the  Thornton  people  as 
their  pastor,  Stephen  Castle  was  always 
regarded  by  them  with  reverence,  as 
one  distinctly  above  and  beyond  them 
selves.  To  hold  ordinary  conversation 
with  him  on  the  Sabbath  day  was  never 
thought  of.  It  was  his  habit  to  spend 
those  early  hours  alone  in  his  study, 
from  which  he  came  into  the  pulpit 
with  a  high  and  solemn  aspect,  as  of 
35 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

one  who  had  seen  that  which,  is  invisi 
ble.  Most  marked  was  his  rapt  and 
self-forgetting  look  at  the  communion 
season,  when  he  seemed  in  a  peculiar 
degree  to  feel  the  weight  of  desire  for 
the  souls  intrusted  to  him,  and  all  the 
people,  seeing  him,  felt,  if  they  did  not 
speak  it,  ' '  He  has  been  praying  for  us. ? ' 

The  choir  now  led  the  people  in  the 
Doxology,  Lina  Barry's  sweet,  almost 
childish  voice  floating  clear  and  high 
above  them  all  from  her  place  in  the 
gallery.  Standing  thus,  with  Stephen 
Castle  across  the  church  ir,  his  place  in 
the  pulpit,  Lina's  blue  eyes  were  fixed 
on  him,  and  she  was  suddenly  aware 
of  a  slight  change,  a  shade  of  surprise 
which  quickly  passed  over  his  face, 
leaving  it  quiet  as  before,  but  which 
made  Lina  look  where  he  had  looked— 
into  the  pew  where  the  strangers  sat, 
whose  coming  had  been  a  matter  of 
curiosity  and  interest  to  all  the  congrega 
tion,  as  well  as  to  Lecty  and  Mrs.  Barry. 

The  service  proceeded  with  prayer 
36 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

and  reading,  and  the  whole-souled, 
honest  attempt  to  sing  unto  the  Lord, 
which  makes  the  music  in  a  country 
church  often  half  pathetic.  Xot  a  sec 
ond  time  did  Stephen  Castle's  glance 
linger  in  the  spot  where  the  Deerings 
sat,  but  wherever  he  turned  his  eyes 
that  morning  he  saw  the  one  face, 
whose  look  haunted  him  against  his 
will.  Among  all  those  honest,  homely 
faces,  with  their  inflexible  reticence, 
their  brief  range  of  expression,  their 
honest  but  unresponsive  attentiveness, 
his  consciousness  was  thrilled  and  stirred 
by  the  sight  of  a  face  so  subtly,  so  mar 
vellously  different.  He  did  not  know 
that  the  face  was  very  beautiful,  he 
only  knew  the  strange,  new  sense  of 
harmony  that  it  gave  him,  like  a  per 
fect  chord  of  music  ;  neither  did  he  un 
derstand  the  complexities  and  refine 
ments  of  feeling  and  perception  which 
gave  that  face  its  play  of  radiant  ex 
pression,  its  swift  changes  and  flashes 
of  light  and  shade.  He  only  knew 
37 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

that  every  other  face  before  him  sud 
denly  became  hard  and  immobile,  as  if 
of  wood  or  stone.  Even  Emily  Merle's 
seemed  strangely  dull  to  him,  and  Lina 
Barry's  blue  eyes  were  as  expression 
less  as  the  eyes  of  a  statue. 

All  this  Stephen  felt  rather  than 
thought,  in  a  succession  of  impressions 
which  in  persons  of  susceptible  imagina 
tion  make  much  of  the  stuff  of  the  men 
tal  life.  Unconsciously  to  himself  he 
was  stimulated  by  the  presence  of  that 
face  before  him  as  by  new  wine,  and 
even  those  who  were  most  ardent  in 
their  admiration  of  their  pastor  con 
fessed  to  each  other  at  the  end  of  the 
service  that  they  "'never  saw  Elder 
Castle  so  much  engaged  as  he  was  this 
morning. ' ' 

When  the  congregation  broke  up, 
Stephen,  contrary  to  his  custom,  re 
mained  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  pulpit. 
He  knew  if  he  mingled,  as  usual,  with 
the  people  that  he  must  greet  Mr.  Deer- 
ing,  whom  he  had  met  before,  and  must 
38 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

meet  the  face  of  that  stranger  ;    and 
this,  for  some  reason,  he  feared  to  do. 

Strangers  were  rarely  seen  in  the  lit 
tle  church  at  Thornton,  and  the  women 
stood  aside  and  watched  with  half- 
averted  but  observant  eyes  the  two 
ladies  who  followed  Mr.  Deering  down 
the  aisle  and  out  from  the  church  to 
the  horse-block,  where  a  man  was  sit 
ting  in  a  handsome  covered  carriage 
holding  a  pair  of  well-groomed  horses. 
Young  Mrs.  Deering  and  her  child  re 
ceived  their  share  of  attention,  espe 
cially  from  the  young  mothers,  who 
were  interested  in  the  dainty  gown  of 
the  little  girl.  It  was  the  young  lady 
who  accompanied  Mrs.  Deering,  how 
ever,  who  was  most  intently  observed, 
and  there  were  some  who,  seeing  her 
that  morning  and  never  seeing  her 
again,  could  still,  years  after,  recall  the 
grace  of  her  slender  figure,  the  exquisite 
color  and  texture  of  her  gown,  the  faint 
fragrance  that  passed  by  with  her,  and 
the  brilliant  light  of  her  smile. 
39 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Mrs.  Barry,  upon  whom  none  of  these 
things  were  lost,  turned  back  as  the 
door  shut  upon  the  stranger,  and  looked 
at  Lina,  who  had  just  come  down  from 
the  gallery  and  was  standing,  in  her 
thick  white  cotton  gown  and  pink  rib 
bons,  with  something  of  disapproval  in 
her  eyes.  She  was  a  pretty  girl — every 
body  said  so — and  she  had  a  nice,  fair 
skin,  but  nothing  would  ever  make  her 
look  like  that,  even  her  mother  was  ad 
mitting.  It  was  just  then  that  Emily 
Merle  came  by  with  an  armful  of  library 
books,  for  it  was  time  for  the  session 
of  the  Sunday-school  to  open  now,  and 
with  her  clear,  untroubled  voice  said  : 

"  What  a  beautiful  woman  that  was, 
Mrs.  Barry  !  It  was  a  pleasure  to  look 
at  her. ' ' 

To  which  Mrs.  Barry  replied  with  a 
shade  of  coldness  : 

"  Why,  do  you  think  so  ?  I  should 
never  have  thought  of  calling  her  beau 
tiful — she  was  so  dark." 

Emily  Merle  made  no  reply. 
40 


CHAPTEK   IV 

All  may  of  thee  partake  ; 

Nothing  can  be  so  mean, 
Which  with  this  tincture  (for  thy  sake) 

Will  not  grow  bright  and  clean. 

This  is  the  famous  stone 

That  turneth  all  to  gold  ; 
For  that  which  God  dotli  touch  and  own 

Cannot  for  less  be  told. 

GEORGE  HERBERT. 

ON  the  Wednesday  following,  Ste 
phen  Castle  was  driving  his  bay  mare 
Doll,  between  nine  and  ten  in  the 
morning,  along  the  turnpike  road,  or  the 
old  stage  road  as  it  was  often  called, 
between  Thornton  and  Pembroke.  Be 
side  him  in  his  single  carriage  sat  Mrs. 
Castle  in  her  best  gown,  with  a  look  of 
lively  but  restrained  interest  on  her 
face. 

The  morning  was  breathless  with 
41 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

heat  already,  and  the  dust  from  their 
wheels  settled  heavily  upon  the  tang-led 
weeds  and  brambles  by  the  roadside. 
The  pine  and  spruce  trees  exhaled  a 
pungent  fragrance  under  the  keen  July 
sun,  and  on  the  more  distant  hills 
shaded  to  almost  a  bluish  black  in  its 
early  light.  It  was  midsummer  day. 

"  It's  going  to  be  a  pretty  hot  day 
for  a  wedding,  Stephen,  hook  how 
Doll  feels  the  heat  already,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Castle. 

"The  warmest  day  yet,  I  think,'' 
Stephen  replied  in  a  tone  which  said 
plainly  that  the  weather  did  not  inter 
est  him  vividly.  His  face  wore  an  ab 
stracted  expression,  which  his  mother 
perceived,  and  so  kept  silence  for  some 
moments.  Whether  it  was  the  close 
sympathy  between  them  which  made 
the  same  thoughts  common  to  both 
without  words,  or  whether  it  was  acci 
dent,  when  Mrs.  Castle  spoke  again  she 
touched  the  subject  of  Stephen's  inner 
most  thought. 

42 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

' '  I  wonder, ' '  she  said,  after  they  had 
driven  a  mile  in  silence,  "  whether  the 
Deerings  won't  most  likely  come  to 
Sarah's  wedding-  ?  I  should  most  think 
they  would,  George  Allen  being  their 
tenant  for  so  many  years.  What  do 
you  think?" 

' '  Very  likely  they  may  be  there, ' ' 
Stephen  replied,  and  again  they  rode 
on  in  silence  until  they  came  in  sight  of 
a  low,  brown  farmhouse  near  the  road, 
with  an  orchard  on  one  side  and  a 
smooth,  green  yard  on  the  other,  slop 
ing  down  to  a  vegetable  garden.  Con 
trary  to  custom,  the  front  door  of  the 
house  was  in  use  to-day,  and  stood  open, 
showing  that  an  event  of  importance 
was  to  take  place,  and  accordingly 
Stephen  drove  up  to  the  front  steps,  in 
stead  of  to  the  kitchen  door,  as  was  his 
custom  when  making  pastoral  calls. 
George  Allen,  the  father  of  the  girl 
whose  wedding-day  it  was,  stood  in  his 
shirt-sleeves  ready  to  greet  them  and 
to  take  the  horse  around  to  the  barn ; 
43 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

and  Stephen,  after  a  moment's  delay, 
followed  his  mother  into  the  house. 
The  small  entry  had  a  close  smell  of 
new  oilcloth,  and  contained  no  furni 
ture  beyond  an  oblong,  leaved  table 
covered  by  a  red  and  black  printed 
cloth.  On  the  table  stood  a  crimson 
fuchsia  in  full  blossom. 

Stephen  laid  his  straw  hat  on  the  ta 
ble  and  went  into  the  square  room  at 
the  left,  called  the  parlor,  which  was 
full  of  heavy  odors  of  flowers,  and 
closely  shut  and  shaded,  as  if  for  a  fu 
neral.  The  room  was  of  moderate  size, 
and  contained,  besides  a  few  chairs  and 
tables,  a  new  melodeon  and  a  polished 
sheet-iron  stove,  which  was  freely  deco 
rated  with  branches  of  asparagus.  The 
carpet  was  in  violently  contrasting 
shades  of  red  and  green,  and  felt  rough 
and  uneven  to  the  feet  by  reason  of  its 
underlining  of  hay. 

When  Stephen  entered  the  room 
there  were  ten  or  twelve  women  stand 
ing  about  its  outside  limits,  with  all  of 
44 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

whom  he  shook  hands,  and  then,  with 
drawing  to  a  corner  behind  a  small  ta 
ble,  he  stood  silent,  a  small,  morocco- 
bound  book  in  one  hand.  His  look  and 
attitude  plainly  indicated  his  disinclina 
tion  to  the  small  talk  with  which  the 
women  were  trying  to  fill  up  the  time 
of  waiting,  and  respecting  his  wishes, 
and  standing  in  especial  awe  of  him  as 
probably  passing  through  mysterious 
mental  conditions  appropriate  to  the 
discharge  of  high  official  function,  they 
left  him  to  himself. 

Yery  soon  there  was  a  flutter  in  the 
little  entry,  and  Mrs.  Allen,  in  a  tidy 
gown  with  a  little  lace  about  her  throat 
and  a  bit  of  pink  geranium  in  her 
bosom,  ushered  into  the  parlor  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Deering,  accompanied  by  the  lady 
who  had  been  with  them  at  church  on 
Sunday  morning.  At  the  door  Mr. 
Deering  was  pausing  to  introduce  his 
wife's  friend  to  Mrs.  Allen,  with  a 
laughing  apology  for  bringing  a  stran 
ger  to  Miss  Sarah's  wedding. 

45 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"Miss  Loring''  (Stephen  heard  her 
name  called)  "  from  Xew  York."  lie 
heard  her  voice,  and  saw  her  smile  and 
move  across  the  room,  as  he  stood  appar 
ently  indifferent  to  all  that  passed,  not 
lifting  his  eyelids  nor  changing  his  pos 
ture,  except  to  fold  his  arms  across  his 
chest,  with  the  little  book  still  in  his  hand. 

The  moments  passed.  The  men  who 
had  accompanied  their  wives  from  dis 
tant  farms  showed  a  marked  disinclina 
tion  to  appear  in  the  parlor,  and  per 
sistently  clung  to  the  refuge  of  some 
apple-trees  near  the  barn,  biting  bits  of 
grass  and  uneasily  trying  to  be  at  ease. 
For  a  length  of  time,  which  began  to 
grow  appalling,  it  seemed  almost  cer 
tain  that  these  wedding  guests  would 
not  consent  to  witness  the  ceremony, 
and  great  was  the  anxiety  of  their 
wives,  who  now  confided  to  each  other, 
with  little  bursts  of  nervous  laughter, 
that  "the  men  were  always  just  so," 
and  that  "  it  would  serve  them  right  if 
they  got  left  altogether." 
46 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

One  by  one,  however,  with  no  evi 
dence  of  haste,  but  with  an  air  of  re 
luctance  well  calculated  to  deceive  a 
denizen  of  the  outer  world,  the  hus 
bands  dropped  into  the  parlor,  and 
stood  with  their  heavy,  brown  hands 
variously,  but  always  uneasily  dis 
posed,  and  their  roughened  heads  bent 
at  different  angles. 

The  situation  became  more  and  more 
awkward,  and  Stephen  Castle,  as  he 
stood  apart,  frowned  and  bit  his  lip  in 
the  vexation  of  it,  for  still  the  bridal 
party  tarried.  Twenty-five  people 
were  now  standing  together  under  cir 
cumstances  which  hardly  admitted  of 
conversation,  and  where  every  one  felt, 
none  the  less,  that  complete  silence 
was  the  one  calamity  which  might  not 
be  endured.  The  moments  passed  pain 
fully.  The  time  before  the  men  had 
joined  the  company  now  seemed  in 
credibly  distant  and  remote,  and  each 
woman  in  her  heart  justified  her  hus 
band's  superior  wisdom  which  had 

47 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

made  him  delay  in  yielding  himself  a 
captive  to  these  four  walls  before  the 
time. 

Mrs.  Castle,  imbued  with  the  idea 
that  it  was  her  duty,  as  she  would  have 
said  herself,  "to  sovr  beside  all  wa 
ters,"  could  now  be  heard  distinctly  in 
the  growing  stillness  addressing  a  pale 
little  woman  in  black,  who  stood  near 
est  her,  in  phrases  which,  although  con 
versational,  were  obviously  didactic, 
and  death  and  the  grave  were  fre 
quently  mentioned,  to  the  dismay  of 
Miss  Loring,  who  stood  in  the  shelter 
of  the  melodeon,  only  a  few  feet  dis 
tant. 

' '  Why  should  he  have  been  taken  T ' 
Mrs.  Castle  was  now  asking  gently, 
but  quite  firmly  of  her  neighbor,  "  I 
asked  my  husband  as  we  rode  home 
from  the  grave."  The  little  woman 
murmured  an  inarticulate  but  appreci 
ative  response,  and  at  that  moment  a 
woman  who  stood  at  the  other  end  of 
the  melodeon  from  Miss  Loring  was 
48 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

heard  to  say  with  cheerful  emphasis 
that  she  "  didn't  know  whether  that 
child  would  live  to  outgrow  them  fits 
or  not." 

Miss  Loring  felt  a  wild  desire  to 
scream  at  the  top  of  her  voice,  but  re 
strained  herself,  and  Mrs.  Castle  could 
now  be  heard  leading  her  submissive 
hearer  up  through  successive  stages  of 
resignation  to  a  position  which  seemed 
to  imply  a  decided  preference  that 
Stephen's  infant  brother  had  been  taken 
out  of  this  present  evil  world.  Any 
thing  from  her  after  this  would  have 
been  an  anti-climax.  Plainly  this  line 
of  argument  ought  to  have  lasted  until 
the  appearance  of  the  bridal  party,  but 
still  they  did  not  come,  although  the 
ceremony  had  been  appointed  for  ten 
o'clock,  and  it  was  already  ten  minutes 
later,  ^o  one  dared  now  to  speak  for 
fear  of  being  in  the  midst  of  an  inap 
propriate  sentence  when  the  eventful 
moment  should  come,  and  every  one  in 
the  room  was  occupied  with  avoiding 
49 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

the  eye  of  every  other  person — the 
men  on  general  principles,  the  women 
for  fear  they  should  be  betrayed  into 
hysterical  laughter — when  suddenly  a 
broad-shouldered,  sunburned  young 
fellow,  with  a  rosy-cheeked  girl  on  his 
arm,  in  a  light  gray  gown  and  neatly 
braided  hair,  appeared  in  the  doorway, 
and  stepped  rather  rapidly  across  the 
room  to  the  appointed  corner,  where 
Stephen  Castle  had  been  standing  so 
long. 

Looking  with  searching  directness 
into  their  anxious  young  faces,  Stephen 
spoke,  and  instantly  all  the  nervous 
tension  of  the  moment,  all  its  grotesque 
blending  of  the  funereal  with  the  fes 
tive  quality,  was  dispelled.  His  voice 
was  full  and  deep,  and  vibrated  with  a 
tender  authority,  which  seemed  to  trans 
form  those  two  commonplace-looking 
persons  into  children  of  God,  exalted  by 
His  grace  to  highest  privilege.  The 
room  became  a  sacred  place,  and  those 
two  were  brought  face  to  face  with 

50 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

God.  "When  the  final  words  of  bless 
ing  were  spoken,  Miss  Loring,  lifting 
her  eyes  and  seeing  the  white,  strained 
face  of  the  girl's  mother  as  she  turned 
to  her  child,  and  the  emotion  on  the 
two  young  faces,  could  not  restrain  her 
tears,  and  they  were  still  wet  upon  her 
lashes  when  some  one  beside  her  spoke 
a  word  of  introduction,  and  Stephen 
Castle,  with  the  seriousness  of  his  office 
still  upon  him,  took  her  hand  and  spoke 
to  her  with  grave  courtesy. 


CHAPTER  Y 

The  encounter  of  the  wise, — 
Say,  what  other  metre  is  it 
Than  the  meeting  of  the  eyes  ? 

***** 
Single  look  has  drained  the  breast, 
Single  moment  years  confessed. 

EMERSON. 

JUST  how  it  happened  Stephen  did 
not  clearly  understand  at  the  time,  al 
though  afterward  it  became  sufficiently 
plain  to  him,  but  a  few  minutes  later 
he  found  himself  standing  in  the  green 
seclusion  of  the  old  orchard  at  the  north 
side  of  the  farmhouse,  leaning  against 
a  stout-limbed  apple-tree,  while  Miss 
Loring  sat  before  him  in  a  hammock, 
which  had  been  stretched  there  by  the 
young  people  whom  they  had  just  left 
in  the  close  parlor. 

"  How  good  it  is  to  be  in  the  air!" 
she  said  gently. 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Stephen  nodded  without  speaking. 
He  was  stirred  by  the  emotions  of  the 
last  half  hour,  and  confused  by  his  near 
ness  to  this  beautiful  woman.  lie  rec 
ognized  fully  now  that  she  was  beauti 
ful,  with  her  gray  eyes  under  long,  dark 
lashes,  her  face  set  like  a  flower  upon 
the  round,  white  throat,  and  the  won 
derful  ripple  and  glint  of  her  bright 
brown  hair,  which  curled  off  delicately 
from  her  temples.  There  was  some 
thing  in  the  contour  of  her  head  and  in 
the  poise  of  it  which  vaguely  recalled 
to  him  classic  heads  of  fair  Greek  wom 
en.  Her  throat  was  bare  to  a  point 
below  its  soft  white  hollow,  and  the 
round  arms  from  the  elbow  down. 
Stephen  had  never  seen  women  who 
wore  their  gowns  in  this  fashion,  and 
it  gave  him  a  shamefaced  unwilling 
ness  to  look  at  her.  She  was  dressed 
in  cream- white  stuff,  thin  and  soft,  with 
lines  of  yellow  in  it  here  and  there,  but 
without  frills  or  furbelows,  and  she 
wore  no  jewels.  The  outline  of  her 
53 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

head  and  waist,  as  she  sat  in  the  ham 
mock,  was  girlish,  and  vet  Stephen  was 
sure  that  she  was  not  very  young,  per 
haps  not  younger  than  himself. 

As  he  did  not  speak  she  began  again  ; 
this  time  her  look  seemed  to  compel 
him  to  lift  his  eyes  and  meet  hers. 

"  I  must  tell  you,"  she  said  timidly, 
"  how  very  wonderful  it  was,  what  you 
did  there  in  that  marriage  ceremony. 
I  never  felt  myself  in  such  an  absurd 
position  in  my  life  ;  it  all  seemed  per 
fectly  droll  and  dreadful  to  me  at  the 
beginning.  I  was  wondering  if  they 
were  going  to  bring  in  a  dead  person 
every  minute — all  the  talk  was  so  grew- 
some  and  dismal — and  when  that  poor, 
frightened  fellow  appeared  with  his 
great  hands  in  those  ghastly  white 
gloves  it  was  worse  than  ever.  I  felt 
as  if  I  should  disgrace  myself  by  some 
outburst,  but  the  moment  you  spoke 
the  situation  was  completely  altered  — 
redeemed,  don't  you  know  ?  It  all  be 
came  noble  and  beautiful,  and  I  never 

54 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

in  my  life  felt  what  such  things  meant 
as  I  did  while  you  were  speaking. 
Please  do  not  mind  my  telling  you  ;  I 
almost  felt  that  I  ought,  you  see." 

She  spoke  beseechingly,  for  Stephen 
had  lowered  his  eyes  again  ;  her  words 
seemed  to  beat  them  down,  and  his  face 
was  very  grave.  A  strange  tumult 
was  going  on  within  the  young  man's 
mind,  awakened  by  her  words,  not  less 
by  her  presence.  He  saw  the  scene 
they  had  left  through  her  eyes  sud 
denly,  as  he  could  never  have  seen  it 
before,  in  all  its  grotesqueness,  and  he 
was  angry  with  her  for  making  him  see 
it,  angry  that  his  world  was  so  far 
apart  from  hers.  Closely  mingled  with 
this  feeling  was  a  strange,  exciting  per 
ception  that  in  the  real  nature  of  things 
it  was  to  her  world  that  he  belonged. 
Her  grace  and  charm,  her,  sub  tie  sym 
pathy,  her  swift  perception  of  the  good 
in  what  he  said,  were  what  he  craved, 
were  what  belonged  to  him.  Xo  one 
else  had  ever  given  all  this  to  him. 
55 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Emily  Merle  was  bright  and  clear-head 
ed,  and  she  was  his  good  comrade,  but 
she  never  hesitated  to  point  out  his  mis 
takes  and  criticise  his  opinions.  He 
thought  of  her  no\v  for  an  instant,  with 
a  faint  sense  of  indignation,  as  he  raised 
his  eyes  at  last,  and  by  an  odd  little  ac 
cident  caught  sight  of  a  name  embroid  - 
ered  in  delicate  tracery  on  the  handker 
chief  which  lay  in  Miss  Loring's  lap. 
Then  all  thought  of  Emily  was  forgot 
ten  in  the  surprise  with  which  he  read 
the  name,  "  Stephanie."  It  was  a  new 
name  to  him.  How  strange  that  her 
name  should  be  the  counterpart  of  his 
own  !  Was  there  not  a  meaning  in  it  ? 
A  sudden  flash  of  intelligence  passed 
between  their  eyes  as  his  were  lifted 
from  the  handkerchief,  and  Stephen 
colored  deeply. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  know  that  my 
name  is  Stephen  ?"  he  said  simply. 

"Yes,"  she  returned  ;  "how  very 
strange  it  is  !  We  ought  to  be  good 
friends.  There  ought  to  be — do  you 
56 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

not  think  so  ? — a  kind  of  invisible  affin 
ity  between  us. ' ' 

"  I  believe  there  is,"  Stephen  an 
swered  soberly,  seeking  to  hide  a 
strange,  intoxicating  sense  of  exultation 
Avhich  seemed  mounting  hotly  to  his 
brain. 

And  yet  as  he  followed  Stephanie 
Loring  under  the  orchard  boughs  into 
the  farmhouse,  whither  they  were  now 
called  to  the  wedding  feast,  there  was 
beneath  the  excitement  of  the  moment 
a  perception,  not  fully  clear  as  yet  to 
his  own  consciousness,  that  it  was  less 
to  her  that  he  owed  this  affinity  of 
which  they  had  spoken  than  to  what 
she  stood  for — the  unknown  world  of 
beauty  and  art  and  human  perfection 
to  which  she  belonged. 

In  the  week  which  followed  the  wed 
ding,  Stephen  Castle  spent  many  hours 
at  the  Deerings',  having  been  invited 
to  call  by  Mrs.  Deering  when  they  met 
after  the  marriage.  He  found  great 
enjoyment  in  the  hospitable  house, 

57 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

where  he  was  welcomed  with  unfeigned 
cordiality  whenever  he  presented  him 
self,  and  given  the  freedom  of  the  pleas 
ant  rooms  and  grounds. 

Stephanie  Loring  remained  with  the 
Deerings  throughout  another  week,  and 
Stephen  always  found  himself  Tier  guest 
in  particular.  She  played  and  sang  to 
him  as  he  sat  in  the  great  music-room, 
and  opened  to  his  possession  a  new 
realm,  for  he  had  never  until  now  heard 
good  music.  At  other  times  they  sat 
under  the  oak-trees  near  the  house,  and 
while  she  was  busy  with  some  dainty 
handiwork  he  read  aloud  from  books 
which  he  loved,  and  which  she  received 
with  quick  insight  and  responsive  sym 
pathy. 

Then  there  were  long,  quiet  talks  in 
the  evenings  on  the  piazza,  which  some 
way  always  turned  at  last  upon  the 
church  to  which  Stephanie  belonged  in 
New  York  :  how  it  was  without  a  pas 
tor  ;  how  sadly  it  needed  just  the  right 
man  ;  how  she  wished — but  here  she 
58 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

always  interrupted  herself  or  was  inter 
rupted  by  Stephen. 

Stephen  would  drive  home  in  the 
darkness  or  in  the  starlight  after  these 
long  visits,  which  for  the  time  absorbed 
his  days,  with  his  thoughts  in  a  riot. 
What  was  coming  to  him  ?  Could  it  be 
that  he  did  not  belong,  after  all,  to  the 
Thornton  parish  and  to  the  people  who 
loved  him  so  tenderly  ?  Was  it  disloy 
alty  to  let  his  mind  dwell  on  these  now 
possibilities  ?  Surely  other  men  left 
their  churches.  Might  it  not  be  that 
another  man  could  reach  the  hearts  of 
these  people  better  than  he  ?  How 
rarely  was  a  word  said  to  show  that 
his  sermons  had  made  even  the  slightest 
impression  !  Stephanie  Loring  dis 
cussed  them  freely  with  him  ;  noticed 
all  the  fine  points,  the  impressive  pas 
sages,  and  Stephen  found  her  apprecia 
tion  very  sweet.  How  would  it  be  to 
live  among  people  like  her — quick  to 
perceive  his  best,  gracious  and  delicate 
in  their  recognition  of  his  work  ?  How 
59 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

would  it  be  to  be  in  a  position  of  influ 
ence — not  to  be  a  country  pastor  any 
more  ?  "What  would  the  fellows  say  if 
such  a  tiling1  ever  did  happen  ?  "What 
would  Dr.  Endicott  of  the  Divinity 
School  say  ?  Stephen  had  always  felt, 
with  a  mingled  humility  and  resent 
ment,  that  the  old  Doctor  did  not  rate 
his  ability  very  high.  It  would  not  be 
altogether  distasteful  to  him  to  make 
the  Doctor  open  his  eyes.  Thus  his 
thoughts,  earnest  or  idle,  would  cross 
each  other  in  endless  motion,  like  waves 
of  the  sea.  as  he  drove  along  the  silent 
roads,  through  the  sweetness  of  the 
clover- fields  wet  with  dew.  But  it  often 
happened  that  when  he  turned  down  the 
hill  above  the  little  white  church,  and 
saw  it  lying  there  under  the  quiet  sky, 
with  the  parsonage  in  the  grassy  yard 
beyond — all  these  thoughts  would  yield 
to  a  yearning  tenderness  for  the  simple 
place  and  the  simple  people,  who  so 
faithfully  loved  him  and  so  patiently 
allowed  themselves  to  be  led  by  him. 
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A  Minister  of  the  World 

When  August  came  the  excitement 
was  over,  for  Stephanie  Loring,  having 
prolonged  her  visit  to  her  old  friend 
far  beyond  its  first  limits,  had  taken 
her  departure  to  join  her  family  at 
Newport  for  the  remainder  of  the  sea 
son.  "When  she  parted  from  Stephen 
she  had  looked  straight  into  his  eyes, 
and  had  said  significantly  : 

';  I  shall  see  you  again.  This  is  not 
where  you  belong,  but  I  must  not  say 
any  more.  You  will  understand." 


61 


CHAPTER   VI 

Deep  in  the  man  sits  fast  his  fate 
To  mould  his  fortunes,  mean  or  great ; 
Unknown  to  Cromwell  as  to  me 
Was  Cromwell's  measure  or  degree. 

EMERSON. 

STEPHEN  went  back  from  the  charmed 
life  he  had  been  leading  to  the  unevent 
ful  days  in  the  parsonage  with  his 
mother  and  the  farmers  and  their  fam 
ilies.  He  was  not  the  same,  and  with 
honest  pain  in  his  heart  he  saw  that  he 
could  never  be  again,  lie  felt  a  weari 
ness  and  distaste  for  the  people  about 
him.  And  yet  he  strove  earnestly  to 
come  back  into  harmony  with  his  peo 
ple  and  his  work,  and  sometimes  he 
fancied  he  was  succeeding. 

It  was  Emily  Merle  who  showed  him 
that  this  was  a  delusion,  as  he  strolled 
62 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

home  with  her  from  the  "Wednesday 
evening  prayer-meeting. 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  tell  your  for 
tune,  Mr.  Castle?"  she  asked,  half 
laughingly,  half  sadly. 

' '  Yes,  Emily  ;  I  wish  somebody  was 
wise  enough  to.  It  is  very  dim  to  me 
just  now. ' ' 

"  That  is  because  you  are  in  the  con 
fusion  of  a  great  change  coming,  I 
think,"  she  said  in  a  voice  which  was 
cheerful,  but  not  steady.  ' '  That  love 
ly  lady  at  the  Deerings'  was  a  new  star 
in  your  sky,  and  she  is  bringing  great 
changes  to  you  and  in  you  as  well. 
Perhaps  others  do  not  see  it,  but  it  is 
quite  clear  to  me. ' ' 

' '  How  do  you  mean  ?  I  do  not  un 
derstand,"  Stephen  protested  uneasily. 

' '  You  are  not  for  us  any  more.  You 
are  for  her,  and  she  will  draw  you  to 
her." 

' '  Do  you  mean  that  I  love  her,  Em 
ily  ?"  Stephen  spoke  abruptly,  as  if  it 
were  a  relief  to  him  to  touch  the  subject. 
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A  Minister  of  the  World 

"I  do  not  know,"  Emily  replied. 
"  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should 
not.  I  know  she  must  attract  you 
strongly,  and  that  she  will  influence 
your  life  always.  Perhaps  you  love  her ; 
I  cannot  tell." 

"  She  is  like  a  wonderful  new  book 
to  me,"  Stephen  confessed.  "  She  fas 
cinates  me,  and  yet  she  does  not  touch 
my  heart.  She  is  top  fine  for  me, 
Emily.  She  would  ne'ver  look  at  a 
country  boy  like  me.  You  are  my  best 
friend,  my  sister  in  a  way,  dear  Emily. 
I  can  talk  to  you  even  of  this. ' ' 

"  I  wonder  if  you  kno \vhow  changed 
you  have  become  since  Miss  Loring 
came  here  ?' '  Emily  continued.  '  •  You 
are  tired  of  us  all  ;  our  ways  and  our 
doings  are  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable. 
Sometimes  I  think  I  understand  just 
how  dull  and  dreary  it  seems  ;  we  all 
say  the  things  we  have  always  said  in 
meeting,  and  no  one  is  bright  and  clev 
er,  like  Miss  Loring.  I  saw  how  you 
felt  to-night  when  Mrs.  Wescott  said 
64 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

she  '  felt  like  settin'  her  stakes  and 
startin'  out  anew,'  and  when  Jacob 
Poole  said,  as  he  always  does,  that  he 
knew  he  '  wasn't  anything  but  a  poor 
failable  worm  of  the  dust. 

"  What  did  you  see  ?"  asked  Stephen, 
surprised. 

"  How  all  these  things,  which  you 
used  to  smile  over  a  little,  but  in  a  ten 
der  kind  of  way,  as  the  poor  attempts 
of  those  whom  you  truly  cared  for, 
vex  you  now  ;  make  yon  impatient 
even,  I  think  ;  give  you  a  feeling  of 
humiliation  that  the  people  to  whom 
you  belong  are  so  rude  and  uneducated, 
and  all  that. ' ' 

Stephen  did  not  reply.  With  her 
usual  clear  vision  Emily  had  seen  into 
his  innermost  thought.  He  felt 
ashamed,  but  he  was  too  honest  to 
deny  the  truth  of  what  she  said. 

After  a  short  silence  —  they  had 
reached  her  gate  by  this  time — Emily 
said  in  a  quite  steady  voice  now  : 

"  When  you  go  away,  for  you  will 

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A  Minister  of  the  World 

before  very  long — you  know  I  have  the 
gift  of  second  sight  sometimes — I  shall 
be  glad  in  a  certain  way  for  you,  Mr. 
Castle." 

"  Call  me  Stephen,  if  you  will.  Em 
ily,"  he  interrupted  her  gently,  "  when 
we  are  by  ourselves,  at  least." 

With  no  touch  of  cocjuetry.  Emily  ac 
cepted  the  suggestion  in  a  quiet,  natural 
way,  and  went  on  : 

'•  As  I  was  saying,  I  shall  be  glad, 
Stephen,  although  the  difference  to  us 
here  in  Thornton  will  be  very  hard  to 
bear.  But  the  change  for  you  is  sim 
ply  in  the  natural  order  for  a  man  of 
your  gifts  and  tastes.  I  should  think 
the  only  thing  to  fear  might  be  that 
gifts  and  tastes  would,  perhaps,  rule 
the  day  in  the  new  life,  not  the  old 
convictions  and  motives — those  you 
know  which  make  all  souls  of  equal 
worth  to  us,  as  I  suppose  they  must  be 
before  God." 

Emily  faltered  a  little,  and  spoke 
timidly.  But  he  had  scarcely  noticed 
66 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

her  last  words,  so  surprised  was  he 
with  the  manner  in  which  she  took  it 
for  granted  that  he  was  to  leave  Thorn 
ton. 

They  parted  a  moment  later,  and 
Stephen  sat  for  hours  in  his  study  that 
evening  pondering  upon  all  these  things, 
and  also  upon  a  letter  from  Stephanie 
Loring,  which  the  evening  mail  had 
brought  him,  and  which  had  kept  her 
before  him  all  through  the  meeting  by 
its  faint  suggestion  of  violet  perfume. 

September  and  October  passed  quietly 
in  Thornton,  with  no  events  beyond 
those  common  to  the  place  and  people. 
The  harvests  were  gathered,  the  leaves 
fell  and  huddled  in  heaps  at  the  edges 
of  the  woods,  the  fields  lay  in  dull,  rich 
tones  of  green  and  russet,  and  the 
farmers  began  to  have  time  to  look 
about  them  a  little  and  make  ready  for 
the  long  winter. 

Lina  Barry  was  now  known  to  be 
"  going  with"  a  prosperous  young  man. 
whose  father's  farm  adjoined  that  of 
67 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

her  father,  and  for  whom  she  had  been 
set  apart  by  tacit  consent  since  her 
childhood,  until  the  advent  of  Stephen 
Castle  had  suddenly  given  a  spur  to  her 
mother's  ambition,  and  stirred  a  roman 
tic  interest  in  the  girl's  heart.  For  a 
time  she  had  treated  her  old  lover  cold 
ly,  influenced  more  by  her  mother's 
wishes  than  her  own,  but  of  late  she 
had  been  more  favorably  inclined  to 
him,  and  Mrs.  "Wescott.  as  usual,  gave 
voice  to  the  popular  feeling  in  Thornton 
when  she  said  that  "  for  her  part  she 
was  glad  Mis'  Barry  had  got  through 
settin'  poor  Liny's  cap  at  Elder  C'astle. 
'Twa'n't  no  kind  o'  use,  if  she  did  beat 
the  county  on  doughnuts." 

Stephen  Castle,  observing  what  had 
come  to  pass,  although  he  never  sus 
pected,  being  a  modest  fellow,  that 
Lina  had  felt  more  than  an  ordinary 
interest  in  himself,  recalled,  as  if  it  had 
been  a  dream  of  the  night,  unreal  and 
impossible,  a  time  when  lie  had  felt 
that  Lina  would  make  some  man  a 

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A  Minister  of  the  World 

sweet  wife,  even  fancying  himself  the 
man.  His  mother,  who  had  hoped  for 
such  an  event,  began  now  to  feel  the 
change  in  him,  and  gre\v  uneasy  and 
depressed,  but  she  kept  her  thoughts  to 
herself  with  inborn  reserve. 

It  was  in  November,  one  Sunday 
morning,  that  something1  happened 
which  shook  Thornton  throughout  its 
length  and  breadth.  This  bombshell 
consisted  merely  in  the  presence  of  two 
strange  gentlemen  at  the  morning  ser 
vice.  They  came  late  and  left  early, 
driving  out  from  Pembroke,  and  they 
made  themselves  known  to  no  one. 
Mrs.  Wescott,  who  sat  behind  them 
during  the  service,  however,  formed 
her  own  conclusions,  which  she  impart 
ed  to  a  knot  of  women  in  a  corner  of 
the  vestry  at  noon. 

' '  They  set  right  in  front  of  me, ' '  she 
said,  "  and  they  was  both  dressed  in 
their  black  broadcloth,  as  fine  as  satin, 
and  their  collars  and  cuffs  shone  so  you 
could  'most  see  your  face  in  them. 
69 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

One  of  them  had  on  a  big  ring  with  a 
stone  in  it  ;  he  was  the  young  one. 
The  old  feller,  he  had  the  long,  gray 
side-whiskers,  and  looked  kind  o*  mili- 
terry.  And  now  let  in*}  jest  tell  you 
that  as  sure's  my  name's  Electy  "\Ves- 
cott,  and  I'm  standin'  here,  that  man 
was  own  father  to  that  han'soine- 
lookin"  young  woman  that  come  here 
to  church  a  couple  of  times  with  the 
Deerings.  Don't  you  remember  ?  lie 
had  jest  sech  eyes,  and  jest  sech  a  way 
of  holdin'  his  head.  And  if  you  want 
to  know  what  I  felt  like  callin'  out 
when  I  see  them  two  men  stealin'  out 
of  the  church.  I'll  tell  you  :  *  Shoot 
them  while  they're  goin'  through  the 
door  !  They've  come  here  to  steal  our 
minister.'  ' 

"  But  what  makes  you  think  so, 
Lee?''  somebody  asked. 

•'Think    so?      I   know   so.''    Lecty 

sniffed  contemptuously.      "  Those  men 

don't  hail  from   Pembroke,   and   they 

don't  hail  from  anywheres  this  side  of 

70 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

the  city  of  New  York.  Now  that 
much  I'll  bet  you,  if  it  is  Sunday,  and 
in  the  meetin' -house,  too  !  What  did 
they  come  up  here  in  their  broadcloth 
and  gold  rings  for,  and  come  out  to 
Thornton  to  meetin'  if  'twa'n't  jest  to 
spy  out  what  kind  of  a  preacher  we'd 
got  ?  Oh,  yes,  I've  heard  of  sech 
things  before  now.  That's  the  way 
they  do  it  in  them  big  city  churches. 
They  hear  that  some  poor  little  strug- 
glin'  church  in  the  country  has  got  a 
minister  they  love  and  they're  all  united 
on,  and  they  think,  '  Well,  if  he's  as 
smart  as  they  say,  maybe  he'll  do  for 
us  ;  he's  most  likely  too  big  a  man  for 
country  folks.'  But  they  don't  send 
and  ask  him  to  come  and  preach  a  ser 
mon  to  them  fair  and  square.  No, 
they  send  a  couple  of  spies  to  see  if 
they  think  he'll  do,  and  then  they  wait 
a  spell,  and  the  next  thing  you  know 
your  minister's  got  took  sudden  to  go 
off  and  pay  a  visit  to  his  old  pastor,  or 
to  his  grandmother,  or  else  it's  to  look 
71 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

at  a  new  organ.  He  keeps  kind  o*  still 
about  what  direction  he's  goin'  to  travel 
in.  but  pretty  soon  he  gets  a  call,  and 
then.  '  Ihirrah.  boys  !  It's  off  and 
away  to  the  city.'  It's  the  Lordcallin' 
and  no  mistake  !  You'll  see  if  it  don't 
come  out  as  I  say." 

And  so  it  did.  in  fact,  befall.  A 
month  from  that  day  Stephen  Castle 
read  his  resignation  as  pastor  of  the 
Thornton  church,  in  order  to  accept 
the  call  of  the  Church  of  All  Good 
Spirits  in  Xew  York  City  to  become 
their  pastor.  lie  spoke  in  frank  and 
manly  fashion  to  his  people,  who  heard 
him  with  blinding  tears.  He  told  them 
plainly  that  he  had  become  restless  and 
dissatisfied,  not  through  any  fault  of 
theirs,  but  because  he  wanted  to  be  where 
he  could  improve  and  develop  among 
other  men.  He  expected  life  to  be  harder 
than  it  had  been  here,  where  they  had 
all  been  so  gentle  to  his  faults  and  mis 
takes,  and  he  knew  that  he  could  never 
love  any  other  people  as  he  loved  them. 
73 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"  All  the  same  he's  goin',"  said  Mrs. 
Wescott  at  the  close  of  the  service, 
mopping  her  eyes  with  a  very  wet 
handkerchief.  "  And  I  don't  see  any 
kind  o'  use  for  my  part  in  gettin'  a 
new  bonnet  this  winter,  do  yon,  Aunt 
Elizy?" 

The  old  lady  sat  beside  her  in  the 
pew,  and  a  tear  or  two  was  slipping 
quietly  down  her  withered  cheek. 

"  That's  your  way  of  putting  it, 
Electy , ' '  she  said  quietly.  ' '  There 
don't  seem  very  much  left  to  live  for, 
not  just  now.  But  it's  all  right,  Ste 
phen,"  she  said,  looking  up  into  the 
face  of  the  young  man,  who  had  come 
to  the  end  of  the  pew  and  stood  lean 
ing  over  to  speak  to  her  with  flushed 
face  and  dim  eyes.  "  It's  all  right, 
Stephen.  It  will  be  a  different  life 
from  this  for  you,  and  you're  young 
and  strong,  and  you  ought  to  have  a 
chance  to  grow.  I'm  sorry  for  the 
people  here.  I  sha'n't  stay  long  to 
mind  it.  I  expected  you  would  be 
73 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

close  by  when  the  call  came  for  me, 
and  I  thought  I  should  like  to  have 
you  hold  my  hand,  but  it's  till  right." 
And  the  little  old  lady  looked  up 
through  her  tears  in  the  bright,  s \veet 
way  which  Stephen  loved. 

"  You  are  to  send  for  me  when  you 
want  me,  Aunt  Eliza,''  he  said  ear 
nestly,  his  o\vn  voice  breaking  ;  ''  I 
will  come  to  you.  I  promise  to.  I 
shall  never  change  to  my  Thornton 
people  ;  they  will  always  be  mine,  just 
as  much  as  they  are  no\v." 

He  was  protesting,  but  she  put  up 
her  linger  and  lightly  touched  his  lips, 
and  said  with  a  quaint  smile  : 

'•  You  think  so  now,  but  you  will 
know  better  when  you  are  older. ' ' 


74 


CHAPTER   YII 

The  sole  thing  that  I  remark 

About  the  difficulty,  this  : 

We  do  not  see  it  where  it  is. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  race  ; 

As  we  proceed,  it  shifts  its  place, 

And  where  we  looked  for  crowns  to  fall, 

"We  find  the  tug's  to  come — that's  all. 

BROWNING. 

"  STEPHEN,  did  YOU  say  that  Mr. 
Wells  was  a  deacon  of  your  church  ?" 

It  was  Mrs.  Castle  who  spoke,  lean 
ing  back  in  a  cushioned  armchair  in  a 
tiny  and  much-upholstered  reception- 
room.  It  was  one  of  a  small  suite  of 
furnished  rooms  which  they  had  taken 
in  an  apartment  house  in  Xew  York. 
It  was  night  and  twelve  o'clock  by  the 
French  clock  on  the  mantel,  which  told 
the  hour  in  a  tone  far  more  melodious 
than  that  of  the  old  timepiece  which 

75 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

presided  over  the  parsonage  living-room 
in  Thornton.  The  face  of  this  was  en 
circled  by  the  arms  of  certain  gilded 
and  smiling  nymphs,  of  whose  general 
effect  Mrs.  Castle  strongly  disapproved. 
She  felt  uneasily  that  they  expressed 
the  tendency,  which  prevailed  in  her 
new  environment,  to  diminish  the  em 
phasis  on  the  solemn  passing  of  the 
hours — the  view  of  life  as  ''  a  winter's 
day,  a  journey  to  the  tomb.''  Feeling 
this  now  with  peculiar  distinctness,  she 
listened  severely  to  the  silvery  softness 
of  the  tone  with  which  the  hour  was 
told. 

Mrs.  Castle  wore  a  new  black  silk 
gown,  which  she  had  had  made  in 
Pembroke  before  leaving  Thornton, 
two  weeks  ago,  and  it  sat  primly  on 
her  narrow,  stiffened  form.  She  wore 
black  kid  gloves  over  her  work-hard 
ened  hands,  through  which  the  enlarged 
joints  would  show  themselves,  and  she 
carried  stiffly  in  one  hand  a  starched 
handkerchief  precisely  folded.  Her 
76 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

face  was  pale  and  wore  a  disturbed 
and  anxious  expression.  They  had 
just  returned  in  Mr.  Loring's  carriage 
from  a  reception  given  in  Stephen's 
honor  at  that  gentleman's  house.  There 
had  been  an  official  reception  to  the 
new  pastor  at  the  chapel  of  the  Church 
of  All  Good  Spirits  the  week  before. 
The  affair  of  this  evening  had  been 
purely  social,  although  it  was  within 
its  purpose  to  enable  the  members  of 
the  church,  or  rather  those  belonging 
to  the  right  set,  to  become  better  ac 
quainted  with  Stephen  Castle. 

In  reply  to  his  mother's  question, 
Stephen,  who  had  thrown  himself  upon 
a  divan  and  was  looking  intently  at  the 
pink  and  green  frescoes  on  the  ceiling 
over  his  head,  remarked,  in  a  slightly 
defensive  tone  : 

"  Certainly,  mother.  Why  do  you 
ask  the  question  in  such  a  way  ?" 

"  It  don't  seem  possible,"  Mrs.  Cas 
tle  returned,  with  something  between  a 
groan  and  a  sigh.  "  I  guess  Christians 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

in  Xew  York  aren't  much  like  Chris 
tians  out  in  the  country,  or  churches, 
or  deacons. 

"  In  some  outward  points  I  suppose 
they  are  different,"  said  Stephen  kind 
ly  ;  ''but  at  heart  I  have  no  doubt 
they  are  alike  everywhere.-" 

•;  AVell,  I  don't  know.  Stephen.  It 
looks  very  queer  to  me.  and  I  guess  I 
sha'n't  ever  feel  at  home  very  much  in 
your  new  church.  This  Mr.  ATells,  and 
you  say  he's  a  deacon,  stood  right  be 
side  my  chair  there,  a  spell  before  they 
dished  their  ice-cream,  and  lie  was  talk 
ing  to  a  young  man  about  a  whist- 
party — that's  what  he  called  it — that 
was  going  to  be  at  his  house — I  mean 
Mr.  AVells's  house — and  he  was  urging 
that  young  man,  Stephen,  to  come 
there  and  play  cards  !  And  lie's  a 
deacon  in  your  church  !  It  must  l>e  a 
different  kind  of  a  church  to  any  I  ever 
was  acquainted  with,  where  the  dea 
cons  themselves  play  cards  and  entice 
young  men  into  such  sinful  pleasures^ 
78 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

as  if  they  wouldn't  go  fast  enough 
themselves.  I  don't  know,  I  never 
felt  so  in  my  life.  It  seemed  as  if  it 
kind  of  struck  to  my  stomach,"  and 
Mrs.  Castle,  who  had  sat  up  with  sud 
den  energy  as  she  talked,  dropped  her 
head  again  on  the  back  of  the  chair. 

As  Stephen  said  nothing,  she  soon  be 
gan  again  : 

"  This  wasn't  the  only  thing,  nor 
the  worst  tiling.  IIo\v  did  you  feel 
when  you  saw  those  women — the  way 
they  were  dressed  ?  Did  you  think  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel  belonged  in  such 
a  place  ?"  and  a  flush  came  in  her  faded 
cheeks  and  an  indignant  spark  in  her 
eyes. 

"Don't  get  so  stirred  up,  mother," 
Stephen  said  soothingly.  "You  must 
remember  that  we  are  not  used  to  city 
ways  yet. ' ' 

"  No,  and  I  thank  the  Lord  I  am 
not  used  to  city  ways,  if  those  are  city 
ways,  and  I  pray  I  never  shall  be  !  I 
was  all  mixed  up  one  time,"  she  con- 

79 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

tinued,  after  a  little  pause.  "  and  I  sup 
pose  some  of  the  folks  had  a  laugh  at 
my  ignorance,  but  I  guess  it's  just  as 
well  not  to  know  too  much  about  some 
things.  One  of  those  pretty-looking 
young  girls  that  wore  so  much  of  that 
thin,  gauzy  stuff  came  up  to  me  and 
got  an  introduction  and  talked  a  little. 
She  looked  pleasant  enough,  but  she 
hadn't  much  to  say.  and  I  hadn't,  and 
I  was  just  hoping  you  would  come 
around  and  propose  to  go  home,  when 
she  said.  '  Have  you  seen  Miss  Rehan 
yet '?  '  and  I  said.  '  Xo,  I  don't  think 
she's  been  introduced,  though  she  may 
have  been  :  it's  hard  remembering  so 
many  names.'  At  that  t  saw  she 
looked  kind  of  puzzled,  and  then  she 
said.  '  Oh.  I  don't  mean  anybody  here, 
I  was  speaking  of  Miss  Ada  Rehan, 
Mr.  Daly's  leading  lady.  You  must 
be  sure  to  go  and  see  her  in  "'  As  You 
Like  It." 

Stephen  could  not  restrain  a  smile  at 
this,  knowing  that  his  mother  had  al- 
80 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

ways  regarded  the  theatre  as  furnishing 
a  direct  geographical  approach  to  the 
infernal  regions. 

"  What  did  you  say  ?"  he  asked. 

"Say?  What  should  a  Christian 
say  ?  I  said,  '  Xo,  my  dear,  I  shall 
never  be  seen  inside  of  a  theatre  while 
I  have  my  senses,  and  I  want  to  ask 
you  if  you  think  it  is  a  place  for  an  im 
mortal  soul  on  its  way  to  eternity  to  be 
found  ?  How  would  you  like  to  be 
called  to  die  in  such  a  place  ?  '  When 
I  put  it  straight  to  her  conscience  I 
could  see  it  went  home  ;  she  colored  up 
and  said  she  was  sorry  she  had  made 
such  a  mistake.  Then  I  told  her  I  was 
sorry,  too,  but  the  gates  of  mercy  were 
wide  open  for  those  that  had  wandered 
far.  It  was  just  then  that  you  came 
up,  and  I  left  her. ' ' 

There  was  a  little  silence  in  the  room. 
Stephen  was  looking  at  his  mother  with 
a  pang  in  his  heart,  as  he  saw  the  keen 
suffering  she  was  enduring  for  his 
sake.  She  had  been  very  silent  since 

81 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

they  reached  New  York,  although 
there  had  been  a  homeless,  piteous  look 
upon  her  face  as  she  moved  about  the 
small,  over-furnished  rooms  of  their 
new  domicile — a  home  they  could  hard 
ly  call  it— vaguely  seeking  for  some 
thing  to  do.  The  rooms  were  kept  in 
order  for  them  ;  she  did  not  even  have 
the  privilege  of  making  her  own  bed, 
and  she  was  too  timid  to  ask  for  it,  and 
they  took  their  meals  in  the  general 
dining-room  of  the  house.  But  all  the 
bitter  homesickness  in  her  heart  Mrs. 
Castle  would  have  kept  resolutely  to 
herself.  Stephen  had  felt  it  his  duty 
to  respond  to  the  call  to  this  new  church, 
and  she  would  follow,  cost  what  it 
might.  But  now  her  conscience  had 
been  alarmed  ;  an  awful  fear  had  over 
taken  her  that  the  Church  of  All  Good 
Spirits  was  not  the  Church  of  God,  and 
she  could  keep  silence  no  longer. 

Stephen  Castle  was  not  a  small  man. 
Some  men  in  his  position  would  have 
been  mortified  by  the  display  of   the 
'  82 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

rustic  ignorance  on  the  part  of  his 
mother,  and  would  have  yielded  to  the 
irritation  which  such  a  feeling  would 
incite.  But  the  young  man  was  too 
profoundly  affected  himself  to  give  way 
to  petty  or  superficial  considerations. 
He  had  made  like  discoveries,  which 
amazed  and  shocked  him  no  less  than 
they  had  his  mother,  and  in  his  own 
heart  he  was  simply  appalled  at  the 
situation  before  him.  These  two  peo 
ple  had  lived  all  their  lives  in  remote, 
inland  villages  of  Northern  ]Sre\v  Eng 
land.  The  most  rigid  Puritanic  scruples 
had  been  handed  down  through  succes 
sive  generations.  It  had  been  a  minis 
terial  family,  characterized  hitherto  by 
respectable  but  not  marked  ability,  and 
by  the  most  unflinching  devotion  to  a 
sense  of  duty.  Mrs.  Castle  was  a  some 
what  narrow  woman,  but  she  was  the 
product  of  generations  ready  to  die  at 
the  stake  or  in  battle  for  the  sake  of 
principle,  and  the  same  stuff  was  in 
her.  In  her  son  was  a  strain  of  the 

83 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

imaginative,  idealizing  temperament — • 
more  of  flexibility,  less  of  severity. 
Furthermore,  he  was  bound  to  be  hope 
ful  by  all  the  exigencies  of  the  position. 

''  "Well,  mother,''  he  said,  rising  and 
opening  the  door  into  her  room,  l'  we 
must  remember  that  we  have  not  all 
the  truth  ourselves,  and  we  may  find 
much  that  is  good  underneath  these  ap 
pearances  which  trouble  us  so  to-night. 
Don't  lie  awake.  Don't  worry.  God 
will  help  us,  perhaps,  to  make  these 
people  over  in  some  way.  Perhaps 
that  is  what  lie  brought  me  here  for." 

"'  If  they  don't  make  you  over  into 
one  of  their  own  kind  instead,  Stephen  ; 
that  is  what  I  am  most  afraid  of,''  and 
Mrs.  Castle  looked  with  piercing  keen 
ness  into  her  son's  face. 

<%  Hardly,"  he  said,  with  a  faint  at 
tempt  at  a  smile.  "  I  lusvo  too  much 
of  your  blood  in  my  veins  for  that. 
Good-m'o-ht !" 


84 


CHAPTEK   VIII 

Through  what  tears  and  sweat  and  pain 

Must  we  gain 

Fruitage  from  the  tree  of  life  ! 
Shall  it  yield  him  bitter  flavor  ? 

Shall  its  savor 

Be  as  manna  'midst  the  turmoil  and  the  strif» 

E 


MR.  LOKING,  the  father  of  Stephanie, 
was  in  many  ways  the  most  influential 
member  of  the  Church  of  All  Good 
Spirits.  He  was  a  man  of  much  wealth 
and  some  culture,  of  great  personal 
popularity,  with  a  decided  interest  in 
the  affairs  of  the  church,  but  in  this 
and  in  all  things  he  was  first  and  last 
and  always  a  "business  man.  A  Wall 
Street  broker,  he  was  keen,  although 
not  unscrupulous,  a  master  at  manoeu 
vres,  whether  in  church  or  in  business 
concerns.  It  was  thus  a  matter  of  no 
great  difficulty  for  Stephanie  to  bring 
85 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

about  the  call  to  Stephen  Castle,  which 
was,  as  must  have  been  inferred,  the 
immediate  result  of  her  efforts.  All 
through  the  months  at  Xewport  she 
had  talked  to  her  father  of  the  wonder- 
full}-  brilliant  young  preacher  whom 
she  had  discovered  away  off  among  the 
Xew  England  hills.  She  had  dwelt 
upon  his  physical  power  and  beauty, 
upon  his  personal  charm  and  magnet 
ism,  and  upon  his  intellectual  promise, 
until  her  father,  who  was  chairman  of 
the  pulpit  committee  of  his  church, 
finally  consented  to  present  the  name 
of  Stephen  Castle  at  the  first  committee 
meeting  held  in  October.  lie  did  this 
with  easy,  laughing  apology  for  calling 
the  attention  of  the  gentlemen  to  ''a 
country  boy,''  for  he  supposed  him  to 
be  really  nothing  more,  but  he  had 
heard — how,  he  omitted  to  say— that 
he  was  a  fellow  of  extraordinary  tal 
ent,  and,  of  course,  other  things  being 
equal,  nothing  would  tak?  like  a  young, 
enthusiastic  man  in  the  pulpit.  He 
86 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

would  probably  be  a  little  green  and 
countrified  at  first,  but  that  could  be 
depended  upon  to  wear  off,  etc.  As 
he  and  Stephanie  had  expected,  Mr. 
Loring,  with  another  member  of  the 
committee,  was  deputed  to  go  to  Thorn 
ton  quietly  and  hear  the  young  man 
preach.  We  know  the  results  of  this 
errand. 

The  negotiations  with  Stephen  him 
self  had  impressed  the  young  clergy 
man  as  more  purely  businesslike  than 
he  would  have  wished  ;  but  he  felt 
himself  at  a  certain  disadvantage  with 
these  polished,  elegant  men,  and  dis 
trusted  his  own  impressions. 

"  Your  preaching  is  what  we  Avant," 
Mr.  Loring  had  said.  "  Pastoral  work 
is  not  expected  in  our  church,  except  in 
extreme  cases — illness  and  death.  You 
will,  of  course,  meet  our  people  fre 
quently  at  dinners  and  receptions  and 
all  that.  We  shall  try  to  make  it 
pleasant  for  you  socially.  But  Avhat 
our  church  wants  is  good  preaching — 
87 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

brains,  in  short,  Mr.  Castle,  and  that 
is  what  we  have  secured.  TVe  are  en 
tirely  satisfied  on  that  point.  Your 
salary  will  be  five  thousand,  not  as 
large  as  it  ought  to  be.  but  perhaps  a 
little  advance  on  what  you  are  having 
now,  and  I  think  you  can  live  on  it.  in 
a  (juiet  way.  of  course — a  little  apart 
ment,  you  know,  or  something  of  that 
sort.  "NYe  will  try  to  help  you  out. 
My  daughter  is  great  on  all  that  kind 
of  thing. ' ' 

This  conversation  occurred  in  Xew 
York,  after  the  Sunday  which  Stephen 
had  spent  there  in  the  late  autumn. 
He  had  returned  to  Thornton  and  the 
little  parsonage,  and  as  he  stepped  upon 
the  yellow  painted  floor  of  the  narrow 
piazza,  passing  the  now  leafless  rose 
bushes,  he  thought  with  a  kind  of 
shame  that  it  was  this  house  and  eight 
hundred  dollars  a  year  which  he  was 
exchanging  for  a  salary  of  five  thou 
sand.  The  shame  was  lest  it  would 
seem  to  everv  one  who  knew  it  that  it 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

was  this  difference  which  had  dazzled 
and  drawn  him  away  from  Thornton, 
and  in  his  heart  of  hearts  Stephen  Cas 
tle  knew  it  was  not  this.  But  it  was 
not  until  weeks  afterward  that  he  could 
bring  himself  to  mention  the  subject  of 
his  salary,  even  to  his  mother. 

In  the  plans  for  their  new  residence, 
and  all  their  domestic  arrangements, 
Stephanie  Loring's  help  had  been  of 
the  utmost  importance  to  them.  She 
had  shown  herself  most  sincerely  inter 
ested  in  caring  for  Mrs.  Castle's  com 
fort.  It  was  to  her  that  Stephen  went 
for  light  and  knowledge  on  all  doubtful 
points  which  came  up  in  his  new  life, 
and  this  Avas  precisely  what  she  had 
expected. 

A  few  days  after  the  reception  at  Mr. 
Loring's,  Stephen  called  at  the  house, 
the  conventional  brownstone  front  in 
the  correct  section  of  Fifth  Avenue, 
and  found  Stephanie  alone  in  the  library. 
There  was  delicate  flattery  in  the  glad 
ness  with  which  she  greeted  him,  and 

89 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

he  felt  an  exquisite  pleasure  in  watch 
ing  her  grace  and  loveliness  as  she  sat 
near  him,  and  in  meeting  the  radiance 
of  her  smile  as  they  exchanged  a  few 
gay  repartees,  an  accomplishment  which 
Stephen  was  learning  readily.  But  he 
was  not  in  a  gay  mood  at  heart,  and 
soon  he  said  with  a  sudden,  impatient 
gesture  : 

"  Do  you  know,  Miss  Loring,  what 
an  awful  blunder  it  was  bringing  me 
here  ?' ' 

"  Xo,  I  have  not  discovered  the  blun 
der  yet,''  she  rejoined  promptly,  skil 
fully  hiding  her  dismay  at  his  words, 
for  she  knew  that  he  spoke  seriously. 

"  May  I  talk  with  you  plainly  ?"  he 
asked.  ' '  I  am  awfully  tired  —  not 
bodily,  but  in  the  head  and  heart  of  me, 
and  I  want  to  say  things  as  I  really  feel 
them,  not  as  I  am  expected  to  say  them. ' ' 

"  I  wish  you  would  speak  perfectly 
plainly.  I  want  you  to  with  me  al 
ways,"  Stephanie  said,  in  a  voice  which 
was  half  caressing  in  its  gentleness. 

90 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"Thank  you.  Well,  in  the  first 
place,  if  you  will  let  me  say  it,  All 
Good  Spirits  is  a  fashionable  church— 
an  ultra-fashionable  church.  I  have 
found  this  out  by  a  little  questioning 
here  and  there  where  I  was  not  known  ; 
and  I  find  they  call  it  the  '  Boudoir 
Church,'  and  the  '  All  Swells'  Church,' 
and  all  that  kind  of  thing.  This  is  the 
simple  fact.  The  church  is  intended 
for  the  wealthy  and  aristocratic  class, 
and  for  them  alone.  That  is  not  the 
kind  of  church  I  ever  ought  to  serve. 
I  am  country  born  and  bred.  More 
than  that,  many  things  which  are  mat 
ters  of  course  in  l^ew  York  fashionable 
society  are  simply  monstrous  to  me. 
The  extravagance  in  flowers  and  on  the 
table  at  these  dinners  and  receptions 
seems  to  me  actually  wicked  —you  see 
I  am  speaking  plainly  ;  the  way  the 
ladies  dress,  the  way  they  all  amuse 
themselves  !  I  am  perplexed,  confused, 
at  a  loss  utterly.  I  have  always  sup 
posed  that  all  these  things  were  what 
91 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

belonged  to  '  the  world  '  in  the  scrip 
tural  sense,  and  that  the  abstaining 
from  them  was  essential  to  the  Chris 
tian  life.  But  the  members  of  my 
church  practise  these  things  continu 
ally,  without  scruple  or  restraint. 
What  does  it  mean  ?  Are  they  all 
wrong,  or  am  I  all  wrong  '?  How  can 
two  walk  together  unless  they  are 
agreed?"  and  Stephen  looked  into 
Stephanie's  face  with  unsmiling  eyes. 
His  own  face  was  stern  and  white. 

She  had  flushed  when  he  had  begun 
his  talk,  but  her  face  was  clear  now  and 
composed. 

"  It  would  hardly  be  graceful  to  re 
mind  you,"  she  said,  smiling.  "  who  it 
was  that  said.  '  Why  was  not  this  oint 
ment  sold  for  three  hundred  pence  and 
given  to  the  poor  ?  ' 

"  Yes,"  he  returned  quickly;  "  but  it 
was  upon  the  feet  of  Christ  that  the 
ointment  was  poured,  and  all  this  lav 
ish  waste  is  for  personal,  even  sensuous 
pleasure,  so  far  as  I  can  see." 

92 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"  That  is  where  I  think  you  are 
wrong.  Can  you  not  understand  that 
there  may  be  unselfishness  in  the  ex 
penditure  of  several  hundred  dollars  in 
the  beauty  of  flowers  by  a  woman  who 
calls  her  friends  together  for  the  sake 
of  giving  them  happiness  ?  The  under 
lying,  perhaps  I  ought  to  say  the  ideal 
motive  in  all  our  entertaining  is  to 
brighten  life  for  one  another,  to  give  it 
joy  and  charm.  Now,  I  claim  that  this 
is  a  right  motive.  How  much  ought 
to  be  spent  in  this  way  is  for  each  per 
son  to  judge  himself.  Perhaps  the 
woman  who  spent  two  hundred  dollars 
for  her  dinner  the  other  night  had  sent 
two  thousand  for  the  work  in  the  lower 
part  of  the  city." 

' '  I  see  the  line  you  are  taking — I  am 
glad  you  have  as  good  a  one.  I  sup 
pose  we  all  give  some  place  to  beauty 
and  enjoyment  in  our  lives." 

"To  be  sure  we  do.  Those  people 
at  the  wedding  where  I  met  you,  in 
Thornton,  had  washed  up  their  pickle 
93 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

jars  and  filled  them  with  roses  and 
peonies,  and  I  respected  the  effort  they 
had  made  for  beauty  and  festivity.  It 
is  a  need  of  nature  in  all  of  us,  and  I  can 
see  nothing  worse  in  niv  sending  an  or- 

i/ 

der  for  flowers  to  my  florist  where  I 
am  trying  to  make  a  number  of  people 
forget  for  a  little  that  life  is  a  '  horrid 
grind.'  It  helps  the  florist,  it  gives 
pleasure,  it  cultivates  the  sense  of 
beauty." 

''But  how  about  the  amusements? 
They  sit  still  heavier  on  my  soul. 

"•  There,  ,ATr.  Castle,  you  will  have 
to  allow  me  to  say  the  question  is  sim 
ply  one  of  education.  You  have  been 
brought  up  to  think  it  was  right  to 
play  with  dominoes  and  croquet-balls, 
and  wrong  to  play  with  cards  and  bil 
liard-balls;  right  to  listen  to  tame  or 
lame  elocution,  wrong  to  witness  the 
magnificent  interpretations  of  men  like 
Booth  and  Jefferson.  Most  people  in 
this  part  of  the  world  think  that  all 
these  recreations  are  alike  as  far  as 
94 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

moral  quality  is  concerned,  and  the 
question  which  they  shall  use  is  merely 
one  of  taste  and  preference." 

"  But  there  are  certainly  degrading 
associations  with  card-playing  and  the 
theatre  which  make  them  unsuitable 
for  use  to  thoughtful  Christian  peo 
ple." 

"  So  everything  about  us  is  capable 
of  abuse,  but  is  it  not  better  to  learn 
self-restraint  and  the  proper  propor 
tioning  of  these  things  to  the  earnest 
work  of  our  lives,  than  to  frown  indis 
criminately  upon  bad  and  good  alike  ? 
Is  it  not  really  a  higher  use  of  one's 
moral  perceptions?"  and  she  looked 
into  his  face  with  the  witchery  of  her 
wonderfully  brilliant  smile. 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  confess  you  be 
wilder  me.  I  shall  have  to  go  home 
and  try  to  analyze  what  you  have  said, 
and  see  of  what  it  is  made.  I  have  a 
lingering  fear  that  sophistry  and  self- 
indulgence  are  not  altogether  absent 
from  the  position  you  defend,  and  yet 

95 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

you  have  made  me  see  things  from  your 
point  of  view." 

lie  had  risen  now  to  go,  and  she  stood 
facing  him  before  the  fireplace. 

';  And  you  will  not  say  again  that 
you  have  made  a  blunder  in  coming  to 
us?''  she  asked,  looking  'wistfully  at 
him,  and  holding  out  both  her  hands. 

He  took  them  in  his  and  looked  down 
into  her  face,  his  own  much  moved. 

"  It  could  not  be  a  blunder  to  come 
where  you  led  me, ' '  he  said.  ' '  Perhaps 
—I  do  not  know — I  could  not  choose 
but  follow,"  and  vfith  that  he  was  gone. 

Stephanie,  standing  alone,  as  the 
house  door  shut,  clasped  her  hanfls  to 
gether  and  her  eyes  flashed  with  a  sud 
den  light,  unlike  the  pleading  softness 
which  had  just  now  been  in  them. 

"  lie,  too,  is  a  man,"  she  whispered 
to  herself  with  something  like  exulta 
tion;  "  even  he.  at  last,  is  human  !" 


CHAPTER  IX 

I  have  stifled  more  than  one  nascent  love. 
Why  ?  Because,  with  that  prophetic  certainty 
which  belongs  to  moral  intuition,  I  felt  it  lacking 
in  true  life,  and  less  durable  than  myself,  I 
choked  it  down  in  the  name  of  the  supreme  affec 
tion  to  come.  The  loves  of  sense,  of  imagination, 
of  sentiment— I  have  seen  through  and  rejected 
them  all  ;  I  sought  the  love  which  springs  from 
the  central  profundities  of  being. 

AMIEL. 

NEARLY  three  years  have  passed  since 
Stephen  Castle  became  pastor  of  the 
Church  of  All  Good  Spirits,  and  on  an 
evening  in  early  spring  we  find  him  in 
a  select  company  at  the  house  of  one  of 
his  parishioners,  Mrs.  Petersham.  Din 
ner  is  over,  and  the  guests  are  standing 
in  groups  about  the  great  drawing- 
room,  which  is  magnificently  furnished, 
and  rich  with  paintings,  bronzes,  and 
porcelains  of  rare  value. 
97 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Mrs.  Petersham,  who  is  a  widow  of 
great  wealth,  has  a  son  of  the  age  of 
Stephen  Castle,  and  between  the  two 
men  a  friendship  lias  sprung  up.  As  a 
result  the  young  pastor  had  been  abroad 
with  the  Petershams  on  a  journey  of 
several  months  in  the  preceding  sum 
mer  and  fall. 

To-night  Stephen  is  among  her  guests, 
but  his  old  Thornton  friends  might 
hesitate  a  moment  before  they  recog 
nized  him.  lie  is  in  full  dress,  with  a 
single  white  rose  in  his  buttonhole,  and 
above  the  broad  white  expanse  of  his 
shirt-front  his  face  rises  paler  and  thin 
ner  than  they  knew  it,  and  its  expres 
sion,  half  dreamy  and  indifferent,  would 
strike  them  as  yet  more  strangely  al 
tered.  The  old,  boyish  frankness,  the 
eager  happiness,  has  gone  from  the 
face,  and  with  it  the  indescribable 
spiritual  elevation  which  made  it  so 
like  the  face  of  some  strong,  young 
saint.  The  face  is  at  once  prouder 
and  sadder  than  it  used  to  be,  more 
9S 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

intellectually  refined,  more  reserved, 
less  earnest. 

He  was  standing  now  before  a  paint 
ing  on  an  easel  in  a  curtained  recess,  a 
gentleman  and  lady  with  him.  He 
Avas  leaning  against  the  wall  of  the  al 
cove  with  something  of  languid  grace 
in  his  attitude,  unlike  his  old  alertness, 
and  with  eyelids  drawn  narrowly  he 
surveyed  the  picture  with  critical 
scrutiny. 

"  Yes,  I  saw  it  in  Paris,"  he  replied 
to  the  lady  who  had  just  asked  him  a 
question,  "  but  that  was  five  months 
ago.  Mrs.  Petersham  has  only  re 
ceived  it  within  a  day  or  two." 

"  It  was  at  the  Salon,  was  it  not  ?" 

"Yes.  It  is  a  wonderful  thing." 
Stephen  spoke  the  last  words  almost 
under  his  breath. 

The  painting  showed  a  woman,  ex 
quisitely  beautiful,  reclining  under  green 
ilex-trees.  The  landscape  was  plainly 
Grecian.  Beside  her,  prone  and  sub 
missive,  lay  a  tiger.  One  of  her  fair, 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

white  arms  was  dropped  across  his 
sleek,  tawny  shoulders.  Her  attitude 
was  of  indolent  repose,  her  face  dream 
ily  content,  only  the  eyes  were  fixed 
with  eager  desire  upon  the  sea,  where  a 
storm-tossed  boat  could  be  seen  passing 
near  the  shore,  the  sailors  looking  shore 
ward  with  anxious  faces.  Plainly,  it 
was  Circe,  the  enchantress. 

Across  the  room  Stephanie  Loring 
was  the  centre  of  a  group,  where  sev 
eral  gentlemen  were  vying  with  one 
another  in  winning  her  smiles  and  at 
tention.  She  was  dressed  with  unusual 
elegance,  in  gleaming  white  satin,  with 
a  fall  of  lace  around  her  beautiful 
shoulders,  and  her  brilliant  beauty  and 
wit  made  her  the  central  point  of  the 
company. 

It  was  not  long  before  she  slipped 
away  from  the  people  she  was  with, 
and  came  quietly  into  the  recess  where 
Stephen  Castle  was  still  regarding  the 
picture.  He  was  alone  now. 

' '  I  must  see  this  wonderful  new  pic- 

100 


A  Minister  of  the  World  , 

ture,"  she  said,  not  looking  at  Stephen, 
but  standing  so  near  him  that  the  lace  of 
her  dress  touched  his  arm.  ' '  Mrs.  Peter 
sham  always  finds  the  loveliest  things  !" 
she  added  in  her  clear,  cool  tone  desociete. 

For  a  moment  they  stood  in  silence  ; 
then  Stephanie  said  in  a  lower  voice, 
through  which  some  inner  feeling 
vibrated  : 

"  Do  you  like  it  ?  The  subject  is  al 
ways  so  disagreeable,  I  think.  I  won 
der  that  you  should  find  so  much  in  it, 
Mr.  Castle." 

"  It  is  a  great  picture  to  me, ' '  he 
said  half  carelessly  ;  "  it  is  what  it 
suggests,  not  what  it  shows,  which 
gives  it  power. ' ' 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  she  responded  lightly  ; 
"  it  might  make  good  sermon  material. 
Naturally  !  How  stupid  I  was  !  I 
shall  expect  a  famous  sermon  to  young 
men  before  long,  with  Mrs.  Petersham's 
pretty  Circe — she  certainly  is  extremely 
pretty— for  a  text.  I  can  see  how  you 
could  use  it  charmingly. ' ' 
101 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"  Oh,  thank  you,'1  said  Stephen  with 
mock  gratitude. 

"  But  really,  Mr.  Castle,  yon  do  use 
a  classic  motif  like  that  wonderfully. 
I  heard  so  many  speak  of  the  sermon 
where  you  wove  in  the  Iphigenia  story. 
It  made  a  very  great  impression." 

Just  then  Lloyd  Petersham  joined 
them,  announcing  that  the  carriages 
Avere  ready  now,  and  it  was  time  to 
leave  for  the  opera.  Patti  was  singing 
in  opera.  Mrs.  Petersham's  guests 
were  to  occupy  her  box  that  evening  at 
the^  Academy.  As  Stephen  and  Ste 
phanie  turned  to  join  the  others  Lloyd 
Petersham  said  : 

'•  Oh,  by  the  way,  Castle,  I  stopped 
at  your  rooms  on  my  way  up  to-night, 
thinking  you  might  not  have  left,  and 
they  gave  me  this  letter  for  you.  It 
was  all  the  afternoon  mail  brought  you, 
I  believe,"  and  he  handed  Stephen  a 
letter.  It  was  in  a  yellow  envelope, 
and  the  address  was  written  in  a  stiff, 
uncertain  hand.  The  postmark  was 
102 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Thornton.  Murmuring  his  thanks,  Ste 
phen  slipped  the  letter  into  his  pocket 
and  followed  his  friend  to  the  dressing- 
room.  He  and  Stephanie  rode  in  the 
carriage  with  Mrs.  Petersham  to  the 
Academy,  and  when  they  entered  the 
box,  which  was  full  of  flowers  and  fra 
grance,  Stephen  quietly  took  a  chair 
behind  Stephanie,  in  the  background  of 
the  gay  company,  Avhere  he  could  be 
still  if  he  chose. 

They  were  late  ;  one  act  was  already 
over,  and  the  violins  were  sighing  in 
yearning  tones  over  the  overture  to 
the  second.  The  curtain  rose  ;  the 
prima-donna  sang  her  bravest  ;  the 
audience  went  wild  ;  and  then  the 
curtain  fell,  and  the  lights  flared  up 
again. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Stephen,  for 
some  reason,  remembered  the  letter  in 
his  pocket,  and  turning  to  be  un 
observed,  he  broke  the  seal  and  looked 
at  the  signature.  lie  found  this  to  be 
' '  Electa  Wescott, ' '  and  immediately  he 
103 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

reversed  the  sheet  and  read  the  letter 
through.     It  was  as  follows  : 

Mu.  CASTLE. 

Dear  and  Reverend  Sir  :  I  have  the  sad  news  to 
give  you  that  Aunt  Eliza  is  no  more.  She  had 
not  been  sick  in  bed,  but  failing  slowly,  and  on 
Sunday  evening,  just  after  the  second  service, 
she  breathed  her  last  without  a  struggle.  I  may 
truly  say  that  she  died  in  peace.  You  was  one 
of  the  last  she  named.  When  the  church  bell 
rang  she  heard  it,  and  she  said,  "  I  should  have 
liked  to  see  Stephen  Castle  once  more.''  You 
know  she  felt  free  to  call  you  so,  and  you  will 
excuse  me  that  I  repeat  her  words.  We  asked 
her  if  you  should  be  sent  for  to  the  funeral,  and 
she  shook  her  head  and  said,  "Too  far,  don't 
trouble  him,''  but  she  wanted  her  love  given,  and 
she  always  grieved  a  good  deal  that  your  poor 
mother  died  and  left  you.  That  was  more 
than  a  year  ago,  and  Aunt,  Eliza  has  failed  faster 
ever  since.  Aunt  Eliza  was  buried  yesterday, 
and  it  would  have  done  us  good  to  have  heard  you 
speak  a  few  words,  but  we  must  not  repine.  We 
shall  be  glad  if  you  can  come  and  make  us  a 
visit  some  time. 

Please  excuse  these  lines,  etc. 

The  lights,   the  music,   the  flowers, 
the    beautiful    women   all    seemed    to 
whirl  away  from  Stephen  Castle  as  he 
104 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

read  this  letter,  and  he  was  in  a  low- 
roofed  farmhouse  in  Thornton,  bending 
over  his  old  friend,  meeting  the  love- 
light  in  her  eyes,  before  it  was  quenched 
forever,  catching  one  last  glimpse  of 
her  spirit  before  it  fled.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  he  would  have  given  all  that 
made  his  life  just  then  to  have  looked 
once  more  into  the  sweet  old  face.  He 
had  never  known,  except  from  his 
mother,  a  love  so  tender,  so  exalted  as 
Aunt  Eliza's,  nor  one  which  so  uplifted 
his  o\vn  nature.  She  was  one  of  those 
rare  persons  who  mysteriously  touch 
every  soul  they  meet  to  its  utmost  of 
purity  and  aspiration.  Xo  one  whom 
lie  had  seen  in  all  this  glittering  world 
in  which  he  moved  now  was  in  this 
way  to  be  compared  with  her. 

"  I  loved  her — she  needed  me,"  the 
young  man  cried  in  his  heart,  holding 
the  letter  crushed  in  his  hand,  and  a 
moment  after  he  rose,  and  making  his 
way  to  Mrs.  Petersham,  excused  him 
self  and  left  the  place. 
105 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Mr.  Loring  was  in  the  parquet  with 
a  friend,  and  he  watched  Stephen  [is  he 
appeared  for  a  moment  in  the  most 
conspicuous  part  of  the  box,  in  his  even' 
ing  dress,  bending  with  courtly  defer 
ence  to  speak  to  his  hostess. 

"  I  tell  you,"  Mr.  Loring  remarked 
to  his  friend,  "  I  never  saw  anything 
equal  the  transformation  in  that  fellow 
— Castle,  I  mean.  When  he  came  here 
he  was  good-looking  enough  —  he 
couldn't  help  being  striking,  put  him 
anywhere — and  talented,  you  know,  a 
scholar,  but  that  was  all.  He  had 
been  in  the  country  all  his  life,  knew 
nothing  of  society,  art,  music,  the  ways 
of  the  world  on  any  side.  He  was  full 
of  a  lot  of  Puritanic  notions,  and  I 
thought  for  a  while  lie  would  kick  out 
of  the  traces  the  best  we  could  do.  I  kit 
bless  your  heart  !  inside  of  a  year  he 
settled  down  to  business  in  great  shape, 
and  I  certainly  never  saw  a  man  im 
prove  so  rapidly  in  my  life.  He  has 
travelled,  you  know  ;  is  up  on  art  ; 
106 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

hears  good  music,  an  opera  now  and 
then — nothing  beyond  clerical  propri 
ety,  of  course — preaches  elegant  ser 
mons,  and  he  can  hold  his  own  socially 
with  any  clergyman  in  Xew  York." 

"  Yes,  I  hear  the  ladies  are  all  break 
ing  their  hearts  over  him.  lie  is  get 
ting  to  be  the  fashion,  you  might  say. 
Don't  they  spoil  him  with  all  the  flat 
tery  ?  He  is  a  young  fellow  still." 

"  No,  they  can't  spoil  him,  and  they 
can't  catch  him  either,  that's  what 
amuses  me  !"  said  Mr.  Loring,  laugh 
ing,  and  then  the  curtain  rose,  and  the 
conversation  ended. 

The  following  morning  Stephen  Cas 
tle  was  sitting  at  his  study-desk,  pen  in 
hand ,  essaying  to  write  a  letter  of  sym 
pathy  to  Electa  Wescott  in  Thornton. 
Her  letter  lay  on  the  table  beside  him, 
and  with  it  a  faded,  old-fashioned  card 
photograph  of  Aunt  Eliza,  which  would 
have  signified  nothing  to  a  stranger, 
but  in  seeing  which  Stephen  could  call 
up  vividly  the  arch  smile,  the  uncon- 
107 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

scious  grace,  the  pure  s\veet-heartedness 
which  had  made  the  little  old  lady  so 
dear  to  him.  He  looked  careworn  and 
sad  this  morning,  and  the  letter  was  a 
hard  one  to  write.  Presently,  as  his 
pen  groped  its  slow  way  on,  he  was  in 
terrupted  by  a  servant  who  brought 
him  the  letters  just  delivered  by  the 
postman. 

Stephen  pushed  his  writing  materials 
aside,  as  glad  of  an  occasion  for  post 
poning  a  difficult  task,  and  proceeded 
to  cut  open  the  several  envelopes  with 
a  mother-of-pearl  paper-knife.  His 
study  was  large  and  luxuriously  ap 
pointed.  Costly  pictures  were  upon  the 
walls,  many  of  them  gifts  from  his 
wealthy  parishioners,  but  in  one  remote 
corner  hung  a  photograph  of  Hunt's 
"  Light  of  the  World,"  the  one  link 
between  this  study  and  the  one  in  the 
little  parsonage  of  Thornton. 

One  letter  which  Stephen  opened 
aroused  an  expression  of  keener  interest 
than  the  rest.  It  was  dated  at  "Win- 

108 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Chester,  the  seat  of  the  Divinity  School 
where  he  had  himself  graduated,  and  it 
was  written  by  a  student  there  who 
was  to  be  ordained  pastor  of  the  church 
in  Thornton  in  the  following  June.  He 
wrote  in  the  respectful  tone  of  one  ad 
dressing  a  man  far  above  him — and  yet 
with  a  manly  confidence  which  pleased 
Stephen  Castle — to  ask  if  the  latter 
would  be  present  in  Thornton  at  the 
time  of  his  ordination,  and  preach  the 
sermon  which  was  always  looked  for 
ward  to  as  the  event  of  these  occasions. 
Stephen  turned  at  once  to  his  desk 
and  wrote  a  few  words  of  cordial  ac 
ceptance.  Then,  taking  up  a  calendar, 
he  wrote  on  it  for  the  fifth,  sixth,  and 
seventh  of  June  the  word  "  Thornton." 
This  done  he  sat  a  long  time  with  his 
head  dropped  upon  his  hand,  thinking. 
The  last  time  he  had  visited  Thornton 
was  on  his  way  home  from  the  burial 
of  his  mother,  and  this  circumstance 
and  the  death  of  Aunt  Eliza  brought 
his  mother  very  tenderly  to  his  mind. 

109 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Her  life  in  Xew  York  had  been  a  poor, 
homely  little  tragedy,  not  devoid,  after 
all,  of  some  great  elements.  Where 
Stephen  had  gradually  yielded  to  the 
influence  of  his  environment,  she  had 
held  herself  rigidly  apart,  and  main 
tained  her  position  of  Puritanic  sober 
ness.  The  Church  of  All  Good  Spirits 
had  no  use  for  her,  this  being  so,  and 
she  distinctly  understood  this.  At 
Thornton  she  had  had  her  household 
cares,  like  other  housewives,  but  she  had 
been  considered  al  \vays  as  on  a  plane 
above  all  the  rest,  and  was  accustomed 
to  being  deferred  to  as  a  kind  of  spir 
itual  leader. 

Xo\v  all  was  different.  In  her  in 
most  heart  she  was  convinced  that  her 
son  was  being  led  away  from  her,  and 
from  "'pure  religion  and  undeilled,'' 
and  this  conviction  ate  into  the  very 
sources  of  her  vital  energy.  Homesick 
beyond  expression,  homeless  rather,  she 
felt  herself  a  useless  appendage  to  Ste 
phen's  life,  instead  of  being  its  chief 
no 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

support,  and  with  no  word  of  upbraid 
ing  or  complaint  she  pined  and  failed 
day  after  day,  so  gradually  that  Stephen 
did  not  dream  of  her  growing  weakness 
until  the  last.  Then,  with  full  con 
sciousness,  she  lay  down  to  die,  calm 
and  collected,  without  triumphs  or 
ecstasies,  but  with  unshaken  faith,  ask 
ing  only  at  Stephen's  hands  that  she 
be  taken  back  to  the  little  New  Eng 
land  village  where  she  was  born,  and 
laid  to  rest  beside  his  father. 

Stephen  had  sent  for  Emily  Merle, 
who  had  always  been  like  his  mother's 
right  hand  in  her  work  in  Thornton, 
and  the  girl  had  come  and  taken  her 
place  with  the  nurse  by  the  bedside, 
and  had  remained  there  until  all  was 
over.  It  was  a  rest,  even  now,  to  re 
call  her  sweet,  womanly  ways  and  the 
quiet  sympathy  which  could  make  itself 
felt  without  words.  Rousing  suddenly 
from  his  attitude  of  dejection,  he  pulled 
his  letter  to  Electa  Wescott  back  to  its 
place  before  him,  and  finished  it  with 
111 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

no  further  hesitation.  At  the  close  he 
wrote  : 

"  Yes,  I  shall  make  YOU  all  a  visit 
before  many  months.  I  have  promised 
Mr.  Waldo  to  preach  his  ordination  ser 
mon  in  June,  and  I  cannot  say  how 
glad  I  am  that  I  can  look  forward  to 
seeing  the  people  I  love  so  well  at 
that  time.'' 

He  was  addressing  the  letter  when 
his  friend,  Lloyd  Petersham,  came  in. 
After  a  little  conversation  of  no  particu 
lar  interest,  Petersham  said  with  a 
troubled  expression  : 

"  Have      ou    seen   Mr.    Lorin      this 


mornn 


" 


"  Xo,  I  have  not  been  out  at  all  yet.'' 

"  I  thought  he  might  possibly  have 
been  in.  You  have  not  heard,  then, 
that  Miss  Loring  is  quite  ill  ?" 

"  Xo,"  cried  Stephen,  much  startled; 
"how  can  it  be  so?  She  was  at  her 
very  best,  apparently,  last  night." 

"  I  know  ;  I  never  saw  her  lovelier 
or  more  brilliant,"  and  young  Peter- 
112 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

sham  spoke  as  if  it  were  pleasant  to  re 
call  the  image  of  Stephanie  as  they  had 
seen  it  so  few  hours  before.  "  She  was 
taken,  it  seems,  with  a  severe  chill  not 
very  long  after  you  left,  and  went 
home.  She  has  been  alarmingly  ill 
through  the  night. ' ' 

Stephen  rose  and  paced  the  room 
with  unconcealed  distress  upon  his  face. 

"  I  will  go  around  there  before 
lunch,"  he  said. 

' '  You  cannot  expect  to  see  her, ' '  said 
Petersham  thoughtfully. 

"  No,  certainly  not,  but  I  can  at  least 
know  more  exactly  the  state  of  things. ' ' 

"  What  a  strange  fellow  you  are, 
Castle  ! ' '  said  the  other. 

"How  so,  Lloyd?" 

"  You  ought  to  have  the  right  to  be 
near  her  at  a  time  like  this.  What  any 
other  man  would  die  to  win  you  could 
have  for  the  asking,  and  you  do  not 
even  care  to  speak." 

Stephen  changed  color  perceptibly. 

"Don't,  Petersham  !"  he  exclaimed. 
113 


CIIAPTEE   X 

Falls  are  not  always  by  the  grosser  sins  which 
the  world  takes  count  of,  but  by  spiritual  sins, 
subtle  and  secret,  which  leave  no  stain  upon  the 
outward  life. 

CARDINAL  MANNING. 

— All  noblest  things  are  born 

In  agony. 
Only  upon  some  cross  of  pain  or  woe 

God's  son  may  lie  ; 
Each  soul  redeemed  from  self  and  sin  must  know 

Its  Calvary. 

FRANCES  POWER  COBBE. 

STEPHEN  CASTLE  was  standing  in  the 
broad  upper  hall  of  the  Lorings'  house, 
which  was  dimly  lighted  and  profound 
ly  still.  Below,  in  the  library,  he  had 
left  Mr.  Loring  and  his  wife,  with 
whom  he  had  exchanged  a  few  agitated 
words.  lie  was  waiting  now,  his  head 
drooping  forward,  a  chilly  dampness 
gathering  on  his  forehead,  as  he  watched 

114 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

a  door  opposite  the  place  where  he 
stood.  It  opened  at  length,  noiselessly, 
and  a  man  appeared,  who  joined  him 
and  spoke  with  the  calmness  of  the  ex 
perienced  physician  in  a  time  of  crisis. 

"Mr.  Castle,  I  believe?  Yes,  as  I 
supposed.  You  understand  it  is  Miss 
Loring's  wish  to  see  you.  It  is  to  be 
regretted,"  with  a  deprecatory  lifting 
of  shoulders  and  brows,  "  on  account 
of  her  extreme  exhaustion,  but  I  sup 
pose  we  can  hardly  refuse  the  re 
quest.  ' ' 

Stephen's  eyes  fell  at  the  suggestion 
of  the  doctor's  last  words,  and  a  tremor 
ran  through  his  frame,  which  he  quickly 
controlled. 

"  You  do  not  think  it  will  increase 
the  exhaustion  seriously?"  he  asked. 

"  Not  more  than  the  excitement  of 
having  her  wish  opposed.  I  do  not  an 
ticipate  an  immediate  change.  You 
•will,  of  course,  avoid  any  subject  which 
might  produce  agitation.  I  depend 
upon  your  judgment  entirely,  Mr.  Cas- 
lio 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

tie,  as  Miss  Loring  wishes  to  see  YOU 
alone." 

He  led  the  way  now  to  the  opposite 
door,  which  he  softly  opened,  saying 
as  he  did  so,  "  You  may  remain  about 
half  an  hour  if  it  seems  best,"  and  then, 
Stephen  having  entered,  he  closed  the 
door  behind  him. 

For  a  moment,  in  the  strange  hush 
of  the  room,  the  young  man  stood,  un 
able-  to  move  forward.  It  was  dark, 
save  for  a  night-lamp  burning  at  some 
distance  from  the  door.  The  air  had  a 
peculiar  odor,  aromatic  and  yet  stupe 
fying.  At  the  foot  of  the  bed  a  woman 
in  white  cap  and  apron  was  quietly 
folding  a  light  blanket,  which  she  laid 
upon  the  bed,  and  then  disappeared  into 
an  adjoining  room. 

Then  at  last  Stephen  advanced  to  the 
bedside,  took  the  chair  which  had  been 
left  there  for  him,  and  looked  again, 
for  the  first  time  in  many  weeks,  upon 
the  face  of  Stephanie.  He  had  not 
seen  her  since  the  night  of  Mrs.  Peter- 
lie 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

sham's  dinner,  when  she  had  been  in 
the  perfection  of  her  beauty  and  power 
— gay,  witty,  brilliant — a  woman  of 
the  world  with  the  world  at  her  feet. 
Now  he  saw  lying  on  the  broad  pil 
lows  a  white,  shrunken  face  and  figure, 
the  small,  thin  hands  lying  passively 
over  the  coverlet,  the  lips  colorless,  the 
eyes  deeply  sunken,  a  woman  around 
whom  the  shadows  of  the  next  world 
were  gathering  thickly.  At  first  Ste 
phen  thought  he  could  discover  no  fa 
miliar  line  or  look  in  the  face  before 
him,  but  when  he  took  the  weak  hand 
in  his,  and  for  an  instant  pressed  it  to 
his  lips,  there  looked  out  from  the  eyes 
something  of  the  old  radiance  of  Ste 
phanie's  smile.  She  seemed  to  try  to 
speak,  but  in  vain,  for  no  sound  came 
from  her  lips.  In  sore  anguish  Stephen 
sought  the  only  refuge  which  seemed 
left  to  him,  and  said  in  a  voice  which 
all  the  power  of  his  will  could  not 
steady  : 

"Shall  I  pray,  dear?" 
117 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Her  eyes  did  not  give  the  assent 
for  which  he  looked,  but  she  spoke 
now,  and  to  his  surprise  quite  clearly, 
the  old  familiar  inflections  of  her 
voice  unchanged,  in  spite  of  its  weak 
ness. 

' "'  I  do  not  care, ' '  she  said ;  "we  have 
only  a  little  time.  I  do  not  feel  that 
it  would  make  any  difference,  do  you  ?" 
and  the  hollow  eyes  looked  searchingly 
into  his. 

Stephen's  surprise  was  so  great  that 
he  did  not  reply,  and  she  said  : 

"  Of  course  it  is  the  proper  thing  for 
you  to  do,  but  it  would  not  mean  much 
for  either  of  us. ' ' 

Still  Stephen  was  speechless,  with  a 
horror  as  of  something  beyond  death 
coming  upon  him. 

"'  Xow,  lying  here,"  Stephanie  went 
on  feebly,  "  nothing  holds,  you  see, 
but  the  real  things.  I  think  you  be 
lieved  in  prayer  when  I  knew  you  first, 
and  I  know  you  think  you  do  now,  but 


the  life  is  gone." 


118 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"  Stephanie" — Stephen  spoke  at  last 
with  exceeding  gentleness — "  God  is  for 
us  when  we  need  Him,  even  though  I 
am  cold  and  weak  where  I  should  be 
strong.  No  matter  how  I  have  failed, 
God  does  not  fail." 

' '  Yes,  yes, ' '  she  murmured  half  im 
patiently;  "  I  cannot  stop  to  argue.  I 
have  only  a  little  time,  you  see.  They 
do  not  tell  me  so,  but  I  know  by  their 
faces.  I  thought  once  that  God  was 
so  close  and  real  to  you  that  you  would 
bring  Him  to  me — you  understand  ? 
I  had  never  found  Him,  and  doubted 
everything — then  I  saw  you,  up  there 
in  Thornton." 

She  paused  a  little,  and  Stephen, 
softly  smoothing  her  hand,  said  : 

"  Yes,  I  remember.  You  came  to 
church,  and  afterward  I  saw  you  at 
the  wedding. ' ' 

"  Then   I   was   determined   to  have 

you  come  here.     I  knew  I  could  do  it. 

You  do  not  know  why.     It  was  because 

I  thought  your  religion  could  stand  even 

119 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

here.  I  needed  it.  I  thought  you 
could  give  it  to  me. ' ' 

"  And  I  have  not,''  murmured  Ste 
phen,  wondering  in  a  consciousness 
which  seemed  to  overlie  the  unimagina 
ble  abyss  of  his  pain,  whether  ever 
priest  had  heard  such  a  deathbed  con 
fession  as  this. 

u  ^so,"  she  said  calmly,  using  in  her 
stress  only  the  necessities  of  bare  truth 
— "  no,  you  are  like  the  rest.  There  is 
no  help,  no  God,  in  what  you  preach. 
It  could  not  stand — the  life  I  thought 
you  had,  so  there  is  nothing  left  for  me. ' ' 

"O  Stephanie,"  and  Stephen  Cas 
tle  groaned  aloud,  disregarding  for  an 
instant  the  danger  of  exciting  her,  in 
the  poignancy  of  his  suffering. 

''Do  not  mind,"  she  said  tenderly; 
"  life  is  too  much  for  any  of  us,  I  think. 
I  was  wrong  to  expect  you  to  be  strong 
er  than  men  are.  Pride  and  intellect 
and  ambition  are  what  really  rule  all 
men,  only  they  call  them  different 
names. ' ' 

120 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Stephen  hardly  heard  what  she  said; 
his  whole  soul  was  concentrated  in.  an 
inner  cry  that  God  would  undo  the  evil 
he  had  wrought. 

She  had  turned  her  head  slightly  on 
the  pillow,  and  when  he  lifted  his  eyes 
he  was  startled  at  the  expression  with 
winch  she  was  watching  him. 

"  We  will  not  speak  any  more  of  all 
that,"  she  said,  smiling  faintly.  "I 
have  more  to  tell  you — the  other  reason 
why  I  wanted  you  to  come  to  us.  Per 
haps  you  would  never  have  known  it  if 
— I  were  not  so  ill,  but  now,  you  see,  I 
cannot  wait.  You  must  know  it.  I 
cannot  keep  it  in  my  heart  to  the  very 
end,  Stephen,"  and  there  was  some 
thing  so  piteous  in  the  appeal  of  her 
face  and  voice,  so  unlike  the  proud 
woman  she  had  always  been,  that 
painful  tears  rushed  to  Stephen's  eyes. 

"It  was  only" — and  she  shielded  her 

face  from  his  eyes  with  one  transparent 

hand — "  that  from  the  very  first,  with 

all  my  life  and  all  my  heart,  I  loved  you." 

121 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

There  was  a  throbbing  silence  for  a 
moment,  which  it  was  impossible  for 
either  to  break,  and  then  Stephanie 
said  : 

"  It  is  strange  for  me  to  tell  you  this. 
Life  could  never  have  done  it,  but  now, 
what  does  it  matter  ?  It  is  the  one 
true  thing  left  to  me — all  the  rest  of 
my  life  seems  meaningless. " 

Kneeling  beside  the  bed,  Stephen 
drew  the  wasted  form  for  a  moment 
into  his  strong  arms,  and  kissed  her 
solemnly  on  brow  and  lips. 

"  God  bless  you  and  keep  you,  dear, 
and  hold  you  close  and  give  you  light 
and  peace.  Amen. ' ' 

His  voice  was  firm,  and  there  was  a 
strange  thrill  of  hope  and  power  in  it, 
and  as  he  rose  to  his  feet  he  seemed  to 
shed  upon  Stephanie  a  mysterious  grace 
and  benediction. 

Then  the  door  opened,  the  physician, 
watch  in  hand,  came  in  with  a  look  of 
warning  on  his  face,  and  the  clergyman 
withdrew. 

122 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"White  and  haggard  and  half  be 
numbed  with  pain,  Stephen  made  his 
way  out  of  the  house  and  on  through 
the  darkness  of  the  night  to  his  own 
silent  rooms.  Having  struck  a  light,  he 
glanced  mechanically  at  his  own  reflec 
tion  in  the  glass  over  his  dressing-table, 
and  turned  away  amazed  at  the  change 
which  the  last  hour  had  wrought  in  his 
face.  There  were  lines  and  furrows  in 
it  such  as  only  remorse  and  sorrow  cut, 
but  what  struck  most  sharply  upon  his 
consciousness  was  the  perception  that 
his  face  was  no  longer  that  of  a  free 
man.  The  look  of  self-poise,  of  free 
dom,  of  firm  will,  was  gone.  It  had 
become  an  irresolute,  tortured  face. 
Strangely  enough,  with  the  recognition 
of  this  change  came  the  thought  that 
he  was  glad  that  Emily  Merle  could  not 
see  him  now. 

Entering  his  study,  Stephen  sat  down 

beside   the   desk,    and   with    his   head 

bowed  between  his  hands  he  remained 

there  hour  after  hour  struggling  for  a 

123 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

clear  comprehension  of  the  point  reached 
in  his  own  experience  which  had  made 
this  interview  with  Stephanie  possible, 
and  along  what  way  he  had  come  to  it. 
He  did  not  dwell  long  upon  the  later 
part  of  their  conversation.  That  she 
had  loved  him  with  the  whole  power  of 
her  nature,  and  that  she  had  thus  con 
fessed  her  love  in  the  hour  of  her  ex 
tremity,  gave  him,  just  now,  little  per 
sonal  feeling.  Something  of  consecra 
tion  and  of  emotion  seemed  to  rest  upon 
him,  even  in  his  pain,  from  this  revela 
tion,  but  it  had  no  power  to  hold  his 
thoughts.  He  had  been  under  the  spell 
of  her  beauty  and  charm  all  the  years 
that  he  had  known  her,  although  some 
element  of  his  nature  had  always  risen 
in  protest  when  he  would  have  declared 
himself  her  lover.  The  very  delicacy 
of  his  feeling  now  forbade  his  placing 
strong  emphasis  on  the  fact  that  it  was 
she  who  had  given  voice  to  the  power 
ful  attraction  existing  between  them, 
rather  than  himself. 
124 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

The  awful  rock  upon  which  his  soul 
seemed  crashing  in  perpetual  wreck,  re 
peated  through  hour  after  hour  of  the 
night,  was  the  fact  that  he  had  been 
pronounced  by  a  soul  in  the  face  of 
death,  and  to  that  soul's  undoing,  faith 
less  to  his  trust.  This,  in  brief,  was  to 
him  the  import  of  Stephanie's  words, 
spoken  with  the  awful  sincerity  of 
death.  She  had  sought  power  and 
faith  and  guidance  in  him  as  in  one 
standing  in  vital  relation  to  God,  and 
she  had  found  weakness  and  self-seek 
ing  and  spiritual  confusion.  She  had 
seen  the  desire  for  power  and  pre-emi 
nence  and  intellectual  distinction  crowd 
ing  out  the  devotion  to  poor  and  humble 
souls  as  those  for  whom  Christ  died, 
which  had  been  the  passion  of  his  early 
ministry.  She  had  seen  the  crumbling 
of  faith,  the  weakening  of  conviction, 
the  subtle  admixture  of  motive.  lie 
saw  it  now  with  startling  clearness,  but 
so  gradually  had  the  change  come  about 
that  not  until  this  hour  had  he  known 

125 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

what  manner  of  man  he  had  come  to 
he.  Now,  at  last,  he  saw  it,  and,  in 
hitterness  of  spirit,  he  called  himself 
false  to  God  and  men  ;  false  to  the 
faith  of  his  fathers  :  false  to  the  ideals 
of  his  youth. 

Stephen  Castle  was  no  coward.  That 
Stephanie  might  have  known  all  the 
way  along  that  it  had  l>een  her  own 
voice  which  won  him  away  from  the 
strength  and  simplicity  of  his  earlier 
manhood  did  not  for  a  moment  lessen 
his  sense  of  responsibility  for  his  own 
failure,  nor  the  gentleness  of  his  feeling 
for  her.  What  if  the  loss  of  faith  and 
power  which  she  met  in  him  were  her 
own  work,  and  work  not  all  blindly 
wrought,  it  would  still  have  been  im 
possible  for  Stephen  to  offer  this  in  his 
own  excuse.  To  captivate,  to  dazzle, 
to  lead  whither  she  would,  was  a  part 
of  the  personality  of  this  woman,  whose 
life  had  touched  his  in  its  most  impressi 
ble  years.  It  had  still  remained  possi 
ble  for  his  own  personality  to  reject  an 
126 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

influence  over-strong,  to  retain  its  poise, 
its  freedom.  If  it  had  not  done  this 
the  fault  was  in  the  weakness  of  the 
man,  not  in  the  power  of  the  woman. 
This  he  felt  keenly.  And  it  had  been 
once  in  his  power  to  lead  Stephanie  to 
the  life  '*  which  is  the  light  of  men," 
and  he,  in  what  seemed  to  him  now  un 
fathomable  foil}7,  had,  instead,  allowed 
her  to  lead  him  into  darkness.  Noth 
ing  was  left  them  now  but  darkness — 
now,  when  her  soul  was  hovering  in  the 
borderland,  where  death's  shadow  falls, 
and  his  own  soul  was  falling,  broken 
and  despairing,  upon  the  thorns  of  life  ! 

Worn  out  at  last,  Stephen  fell  asleep 
at  his  desk,  an  image  from  the  inferno 
vaguely  haunting  his  uneasy  sleep,  of 
two  troubled  spirits  flitting,  wailing 
and  homeless,  through  an  endless  dark 
ness. 

On  the  following  Sunday  in  the 
Church  of  All  Good  Spirits  many  per 
sons  in  the  congregation  observed  the 
extreme  pallor  of  the  young  pastor  as 

127 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

lie  stood  before  them  in  the  pulpit, 
and  the  very  unusual  languor  of  his 
manner.  There  were  some  who  at 
tributed  these  manifestations  of  suffer 
ing  to  the  critical  condition  of  Stephanie 
Loring,  who  was  still  lying,  apparently, 
at  the  gates  of  death.  There  were 
none  who  divined  the  darkness,  deeper 
than  any  which  the  shadow  of  death 
could  bring,  in  which  his  soul  was 
wrapped  that  day.  The  subdued  splen 
dor  of  the  stately  building,  its  impres 
sive  architecture,  the  richness  of  its 
wood-carving  and  stained  glass,  the 
noiseless  footsteps  of  the  worshippers 
as  they  trod  the  thick  carpets  of  the 
aisles,  their  graceful  and  well-bred  de 
votions,  the  very  flattery  in  their  faces 
as  they  looked  at  himself — all  these 
things,  in  which  before  he  had  found 
high  satisfaction,  oppressed  him  un 
speakably  to-day. 

Even   the    deep  tones  of   the  organ 
jarred  upon  him,  and  when  the  quar 
tette,  which  was  the  pride  of  All  Good 
128 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Spirits  and  the  envy  of  all  other 
churches  of  its  order,  produced  a  classic 
selection  with  marvellously  artistic  per 
fection,  he  longed  to  break  the  spell 
bound  attention  of  the  people  with  the 
rude  discords  of  which  his  own  soul 
was  full. 

Stephen  had  taken,  almost  at  ran 
dom,  an  old  sermon  that  morning.  He 
had  hardly  read  it  through.  Not  until 
he  announced  it  did  he  recognize  the 
bitter  irony  of  the  text  :  ' '  Ye  are  the 
salt  of  the  earth,  but  if  the  salt  hath 
lost  its  savor,  wherewith  shall  it  be 
salted?" 


129 


CIIAPTEK    XI 

— What  filmy  strands 
Are  these  that  turn  to  iron  bands  ? 
"What  knot  is  this  so  firmly  tied 
That  naught  but  fate  can  now  divide  ? 
Ah  !  these  are  things  one  understands 
But  once  or  twice. 

AUSTIN  DOBSOX. 

"  STEPHANIE  will  recover  !"  This 
sentence  was  ringing  through  Stephen 
Castle's  brain  like  bells  of  joy  as  lie 
walked  up  and  down  his  study,  his  hag 
gard  face  illuminated  again  with  some 
thing  of  the  hope  and  courage  which 
had  been  absent  from  it  for  so  many 
days.  ]\fr.  Loring  had  just  left  him, 
having  rushed  in,  almost  wild  with  ex 
citement  and  the  reaction  after  long 
suspense,  to  tell  him  that  the  doctors 
pronounced  that  the  force  of  Stephanie's 
disease  had  spent  itself,  and  that,  con- 
130 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

trary  to  all  their  expectation,  her 
strength  had  endured  the  terrible  strain, 
and  there  was  reason  to  hope  that  she 
would  recover. 

"  They  say  they  never  saw  such 
elasticity,  such  rebound,  such  a  superb 
organization."  This  Mr.  Loring  had 
said  to  Stephen,  unaware  himself  that 
tears  were  running  down  his  cheeks, 
and  he  hurried  away  to  give  an  hour 
or  t\vo  to  the  business  interests  which 
for  the  last  few  weeks  he  had  utterly 
ignored. 

"  Stephanie  will  recover  !"  All  that 
this  meant  to  Stephen  himself  he  did 
not,  he  could  not  consider.  His  beauti 
ful,  peerless  friend  was  given  back  to 
life,  to  the  air,  to  the  sun,  to  freedom, 
and  to  joy  !  The  wonderful  radiance 
of  her  smile  was  not  to  be  quenched  ; 
her  beauty  and  grace  and  charm  were 
not  to  be  given  to  the  embrace  of 
death.  Life,  which  had  seemed  of  late 
so  bare  and  joyless,  now  looked  bright 
again,  and  Stephen  felt  all  his  pulses 

131 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

run  full  and  fast.  And  yet  there  was 
a  swift  perception  which  clouded  his 
brow  and  steadied  him  in  the  joyful 
tumult  of  the  moment.  Xow.  with  life 
and  strength  coming  back,  and  the  or 
dinary  considerations  of  convention  as 
serting  themselves,  how  would  a  proud 
woman  like  Stephanie  feel  in  remem 
bering  the  revelation  of  her  love  which 
she  had  made  to  him,  Stephen  Castle, 
when  she  supposed  herself  to  be  near 
the  gate  of  death  ?  He  felt  himself 
grow  hot  and  cold  for  her,  knowing  by 
intuitive  sympathy  what  she  would  suf 
fer,  and  how  she  would  shrink  from  the 
recollection  which  he  felt  sure  would 
haunt  her  day  and  night,  even  in  this 
time  of  restoration. 

Hardly  had  this  perception  made 
itself  clear  to  his  consciousness  when 
Stephen's  mind  leaped  to  a  solution  of 
the  difficulty — the  only  natural  and  ade 
quate  solution,  he  instantly  felt.  One 
thing  only  could  reconcile  Stephanie  to 
the  thought  of  her  confession  to  him, 
132 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

but  that  one  thing  was  sufficient.  It 
was  that  he  should  ask  her  to  be  his. 
wife.  A  man  of  a  different  mental  and 
moral  organization  would  have  taken  a 
day  to  reflect  and  decide  upon  a  step 
like  this.  A  cautious  man  would  have 
seen  serious  considerations  against  it, 
which  must  be  carefully  weighed,  for 
in  the  past  week  Stephen  had  gradually 
reached  the  point  of  believing  that  the 
only  way  back  to  his  integrity  as  a 
minister  of  Christ  lay  in  a  complete 
break  from  his  present  surroundings. 
But  all  this  was  impossible  to  Stephen. 
Xo  consideration  of  self,  however  just 
at  other  times,  could  hold  against  the 
instinct  of  a  chivalrous  nature  in  a  crisis 
like  this.  Stephanie's  happiness  was 
clouded,  her  recovery  perhaps  retarded 
by  a  humiliation  from  which  it  was  in  his 
power  to  save  her.  lie  hesitated  no  more 
to  throw  himself  into  the  breach  than  a 
knight  of  King  Arthur's  time  would  have 
stopped  to  consider  his  own  safety  when 
called  upon  to  do  battle  for  a  fair  lady. 
133 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Within  an  hour  of  Mr.  Loring's  call 
a  note  was  on  its  way  to  Stephanie,  in 
which  Stephen  Castle  said  : 

"  Will  you  forgive  me  that  I  do  not 
wait,  as  I  ought,  until  you  are  stronger, 
but  that  now  in  my  great  joy  that  God 
is  giving  you  back  to  us,  I  dare  to  ask 
that  to  me,  more  than  to  all  others, 
you  may  be  given  ? 

"'  I  know,  in  some  faint  degree,  I 
think,  ho\v  surpassingly  great  is  the 
favor  I  ask.  I  know,  too,  ho\v  un 
worthy  I  am  to  ask  it,  but  all  that  f 
am  or  can  be  is  yours,  if  you  will  take 
it.  Do  not  try  to  write  or  to  see  me 
until  you  are  quite  strong.  I  can  be 
patient  now.'; 

A  day  or  two  passed.  There  was  a 
great  storm  at  sea,  with  awful  ship 
wreck  and  disaster.  Stephen,  restless 
and  unable  to  force  himself  into  any  of 
his  wonted  occupations,  left  the  city 
and  went  out  to  a  little  settlement  on 
an  exposed  point  of  the  Long  Island 
coast,  to  watch  the  effects  of  the  storm, 
134 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

and  to  fight,  with  the  men  of  the  life- 
saving  station,  for  the  lives  of  ship 
wrecked  sailors,  who  might  be  washed 
ashore  at  that  point. 

He  found  something  of  relief  in  the 
struggle  of  the  elements  ;  his  own  per 
sonal  conflicts  were  lost  for  the  time, 
and  he  seemed  to  come  into  touch  with 
the  majestic  powers  of  nature,  which 
even  in  their  most  terrible  manifesta 
tions  can  quiet  the  fever  and  passion  of 
the  human  heart. 

Returning  late  at  night  to  his  apart 
ment,  he  found  in  a  pile  of  letters  wait 
ing  for  him,  not  the  one  he  half  expect 
ed  from  Stephanie,  but  one  from  Emily 
Merle,  asking  him  when  he  came  to 
Thornton  to  bring  her  a  certain  book 
which  she  had  sent  for  in  vain  to  dif 
ferent  booksellers. 

Stephen  started  to  his  feet  in  conster 
nation.  Thornton  !  To  be  sure,  he 
was  under  engagement  to  go  to  Thorn 
ton  the  fifth  of  June  to  attend  Waldo's 
ordination.  The  experiences  and  ex- 

133 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

citements  of  the  last  six  weeks  had  en 
tirely  driven  the  matter  from  his  mind, 
and  now  it  was  the  fourth  of  June. 
His  ordination  sermon  had  not  even 
been  thought  of,  the  arrangements  for 
his  absence  were  not  made,  and  yet  lie 
must  start  at  seven  o'clock  the  next 
morning  ;  even  then  it  was  doubtful 
whether  he  could  reach  Thornton, 
which  was  not  on  the  main  line  of  rail 
road,  the  same  night. 

Stephen  turned  the  leaves  of  his  cal 
endar.  Yes,  there  was  no  room  for 
doubt  in  the  matter  ;  he  had  written 
"  Thornton"  across  the  spaces  occupied 
by  the  next  three  days.  'When  he  had 
written  it  the  time  had  seemed  far 
away.  How  distinctly  it  all  came  back 
to  him  now  !  It  was  the  night  at  Mrs. 
Petersham's,  the  night  he  had  last  seen 
Stephanie  Loring  in  health,  the  evening 
he  had  heard  of  Aunt  Eliza's  death. 
There  was  no  time  now  to  be  spent  in 
meditation.  lie  must  make  ready  for 
his  journey.  Fortunately  the  book 
136 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

which  Emily  wanted  was  in  his  own 
library.  It  went  first  into  his  gripsack, 
which  he  at  once  proceeded  to  pack, 
throwing  in  another  book  or  two  to 
help  him  in  working  up  his  sermon, 
which  he  must  prepare  on  the  cars. 
Then  he  wrote  half  a  dozen  hasty  notes, 
arranging  for  different  appointments 
to  be  met  during  his  absence  ;  among 
them  was  one  to  Lloyd  Petersham,  ask 
ing  him  to  explain  his  sudden  departure 
fully  to  the  Lorings,  and  to  attend  to 
the  immediate  forwarding  of  any  letters 
which  might  come  to  him  the  next  day. 
Having  done  all  these  things,  Stephen 
ordered  his  breakfast  for  six  o'clock, 
and  lay  down  for  a  few  hours  of  sleep. 
At  eight  o'clock  the  next  evening  a 
train,  evidently  impatient  at  the  neces 
sity,  slowed  up  for  half  a  minute  at  a 
little  station  in  a  cut  between  two 
grassy  hills,  and  having  deposited  a  soli 
tary  passenger  steamed  on  again,  as  if 
eager  to  reach  a  point  of  greater  conse 
quence.  The  man  who  alighted,  grip- 

137 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

sack  in  hand,  at  the  station  under  the 
hill,  \vas  Stephen  Castle,  and,  half  a 
mile  vo  the  west,  the  spire  which  rose 
against  the  pale  yellow  sky,  where  the 
sunset  fires  were  burning  out,  was  the 
spire  of  the  Thornton  church. 

There  was  no  one  there  to  meet  him, 
no  one  at  the  station  but  the  man  who 
had  it  in  charge,  and  this  was  what  he 
hoped  for  and  what  he  expected.  Be 
fore  he  left  Xew  York  in  the  morning, 
he  had  telegraphed  to  Thornton  that, 
the  connections  being  uncertain,  he 
would  spend  the  night  at  AVinchester. 
He  did  this  knowing  that  he  could  join 
the  little  party  of  professors  from  the 
Divinity  School  there  who  would  doubt 
less  attend  Waldo's  ordination,  and 
with  them  reach  Thornton  in  time  for 
the  morning  session  of  the  Council. 
However,  in  the  course  of  the  day  he 
had  found  that  he  could,  after  all,  by 
availing  himself  of  another  road,  reach 
Thornton  in  the  evening.  The  longing 
to  see  the  place  was  growing  strong 
138 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

•within  him,  and  to  see  it  in  its  normal 
quiet,  before  the  influx  of  visitors  to 
the  ordination  had  transformed  it.  He 
knew  that  some  one  would  give  him  a 
bed,  and  so  he  came  on,  without  stop 
ping  at  Winchester. 

Leaving  his  gripsack  with  the  station- 
master,  who  recognized  him  and  re 
ceived  him  with  manifest  but  silent  en 
thusiasm,  Stephen  ran  up  the  long  flight 
of  steps  to  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and 
struck  out  on  the  road  which  ran  be 
tween  clover-fields  up  to  the  village. 
It  was  twilight,  and  the  grassy  path  by 
the  roadside,  along  which  he  walked, 
was  wet  with  dew.  The  white  farm 
houses,  each  with  its  company  of  barns, 
red  or  ochre  or  unpainted  gray,  lay  in 
unbroken  silence,  with  broad  meadows 
and  orchards  between.  The  air  was 
pure  as  crystal,  and  sweet  with  the 
breath  of  many  blossoms.  How  still  it 
was  !  His  own  footsteps  were  the  only 
sound  except  the  ripple  of  the  brook  as 
it  ran  beside  the  road  and  under  the 
139 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

old  bridge.  The  clear  water  broke  in 
shallow  cascades  over  the  red-brown 
stones,  just  as  it  used  in  the  sweet  old 
time  when  he  was  wont  to  come  there 
Saturday  afternoons  for  the  rest  and 
cooling  of  its  music.  And  the  man,  the 
boy  rather,  eager  and  free-hearted, 
who  used  to  linger  there  was  himself, 
Stephen  Castle,  who  no\v  stood  on  the 
little  bridge,  with  care  and  pain  and  a 
bitter  sense  of  failure  ever  with  him. 
Of  course  there  came  the  longing  to 

o       o 

break  a  way  from  his  present  conditions 
and  take  refuge  in  a  haven  of  peace 
like  this,  but  as  inevitable  was  the  rec 
ognition  that  this  was  impossible  as 
well  as  useless.  The  time  for  peace 
and  repose  in  his  life  was  over,  until 
old  age  should  bring  it  back  perchance  ; 
he  was  in  the  years  of  conflict  now,  and 
must  endure  hardness  as  a  soldier. 

Stephen  left  the  bridge  and  passed  on 

by  the  familiar  path,     lie  had  reached 

a  farmhouse  now  where  he  had  always 

been   a   Avelcome   guest.      lie    noticed 

140 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

with  a  smile  of  pleasure,  as  he  passed 
the  hay-fields,  that  the  crop  was  large 
and  fine.  The  old  satisfaction  which 
he  used  to  share  with  the  Thornton 
people  in  "  a  good  year' '  came  back  to 
him.  ]STo  one  was  in  sight  about  the 
house.  He  was  glad  and  sorry,  too. 
He  was  not  quite  ready  yet  to  meet  his 
Thornton  friends,  and  yet  he  longed 
for  such  an  old-fashioned  grasp  of  the 
hand  as  he  knew  was  ready  for  him. 
Up  the  hill  now  and  past  the  parson 
age,  but  the  dusk  was  deepening,  and 
the  house  could  hardly  be  seen  among 
its  vines  and  bushes  of  lilac  and  syringa. 
There  was  a  light  in  the  middle  room. 
Stephen  supposed  "Waldo  was  there. 
He  wondered  if  he  were  to  be  married, 
or  whether  he  would  live  with  a  sister 
or  with  his  mother,  as  he  had  done. 
The  fragrance  of  the  locust  blossoms, 
high  in  the  dark  above  his  head,  came 
to  him  with  the  mysterious  power  over 
memory  which  odors  possess.  All  his 
life  in  the  little  parsonage,  his  mother 
141 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

and  her  love  and  devotion,  came  before 
him  with  overmastering  power,  and  his 
tears  flowed  unchecked.  lie  leaned  for 
a  moment  on  the  parsonage  gate.  lie 
had  thus  far  met  not  a  single  person, 
but  a  boy  was  coming  down  the  gravel 
walk,  from  the  direction  of  the  post- 
office,  now,  and  Stephen  stood  aside  to 
let  him  pass. 

lie  was  not  ready  yet  to  go  into  the 
parsonage  and  find  AYaldo  and  explain 
his  presence  in  Thornton  to-night.  lie 
would  rather  walk  on.  A  few  steps 
more  and  he  saw  a  faint  light  shining 
through  the  windows  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  church.  Perhaps  he  could  slip 
in  unobserved  and  have  a  few  moments 
alone  in  the  stillness  there  to  calm  and 
collect  himself.  The  door  was  closed, 
but  opened  readily  when  he  tried  it, 
and  he  found  no  one  in  the  narrow  ves 
tibule,  which  was  militated.  lie  knew 

/  o 

his  way  well,   and  in  a  moment  had 

climbed   the   steep  stairs  to  the  choir 

gallery,  the  door  of  which  he  cautiously 

142 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

opened.  The  church  was  dark  except 
for  one  lamp  on  the  communion-table, 
at  the  opposite  end.  Unseen,  he  en 
tered  the  gallery  and  sat  down  in  the 
shadow  of  the  organ. 

At  first  he  thought  there  might  be  no 
one  in  the  building  but  himself,  but  an 
instant  later  he  perceived  that  a  wom 
an's  form  was  bending  over  some  jars 
of  flowers  near  the  pulpit,  and  sud 
denly,  as  she  lifted  her  head,  and  the 
light  of  the  lamp  struck  upward  on  her 
face,  he  recognized  Emily  Merle.  His 
heart  gave  a  great  leap  of  joy,  and  a 
strange  warmth  and  comfort  and  re 
lease  from  pain  seemed  to  flow  through 
his  consciousness.  "What  power  of  heal 
ing  and  uplift  lay  in  a  womanhood  so 
strong  and  steadfast,  in  a  nature  which 
had  never  spent  itself  on  the  semblances 
of  life,  but  had  had  to  do  with  its 
truths  !  Like  a  cooling  draught  in  his 
fever  and  pain,  Stephen  felt  the  girl's 
presence.  "What  would  have  befallen 
her  in  "  the  great  world, "  as  they  called 
143 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

it — the  world  in  which  he  had  lost  his 
path  and  his  purpose  full  soon '?  "Was 
it  only  the  accident  of  environment 
which  had  made  Emily  Merle  what  she 
was  ?  Xo,  Stephen  made  answer  to 
himself  ;  the  high  integrity  of  her  spir 
itual  life  would  have  stood  the  proof, 
as  his,  too,  might  have  done,  for  the 
stern  word  of  the  great  moralist  came 
Lack  to  him  in  the  silence  :  "It  always 
remains  true  that  if  we  had  been  great 
er,  circumstances  would  have  been  less 
strong  against  us." 

She  was  busy  with  flowers  and  ferns, 
and  moved  about  quietly,  but  with  evi 
dent  absorption  in  her  work,  sometimes 
stepping  back  a  few  paces  to  note  the 
effect,  then  returning  to  lift  a  vine  or 
turn  a  flower  with  dainty  touch.  All 
her  attitudes  were  unconsciously  grace 
ful,  and  there  was  a  sweet  seriousness 
in  her  face  and  a  womanly  dignity  in 
her  bearing  which  Stephen  had  never 
recognized  as  he  did  now. 

He  heard  a  door  below  him  swing 
144 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

after    a    moment,    and    Emily's   voice 
called  : 

"  Did  YOU  find  them?" 

"  Yes,  there  were  plenty,  and  very 
good  ones."  The  two  voices  reverber 
ated  strangely  through  the  empty  church. 

A  young  girl  now  came  into  the  cir 
cle  of  light  around  the  pulpit,  and  Ste 
phen  saw  that  her  hands  were  full  of 
tall  ferns,  which  she  gave  to  Emily. 

Five,  ten  minutes  passed  as  if  in  a 
dream  to  Stephen  alone  in  his  shadowed 
place,  and  memories  of  his  youthful 
ministry  clustered  close  about  him. 
The  dark  church,  with  its  one  little  cir 
cle  of  light,  which  seemed  strangely  far 
away,  the  grotesque  shadows  cast  by 
the  single  lamp,  the  quiet  voices  and 
movements  of  the  two  girls  as  they 
handled  the  ferns,  whose  shadows  were 
like  trees  as  they  flitted  across  the 
walls,  all  made  up  an  impression  of  un 
reality,  and  he  ceased  to  know  or  care 
where  he  was  or  why  he  was  there. 
Presently  he  heard  a  voice  say  : 
145 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

'•  I  wonder  if  he  will  he  the  same." 

It  was  Emily  Merle's  voice  which  an 
swered  : 

"  Xo,  he  is  not  the  same." 

*'•  Do  you  mean  that  lie  has  grown 
proud  and  will  look  down  upon  people 
like  us?"  the  voice  asked  again. 

"  Xo,  not  that  :  he  could  never  be 
like  that.  His  heart  is  as  true  as  steel. 
You  will  find  him  kinder  than  ever, 
and  interested  in  us  as  he  used  to  be. 
But,  after  all.  it  is  different."  There 
was  a  little  silence,  and  then  Emily 
Merle  added  : 

'•"  He  does  not  belong  to  us  any  more, 
you  see,  and  he  never  can  again." 

Stephen  \vas  awake  now  and  alive  to 
the  fact  that  it  was  he  of  whom  they 
were  speaking.  "Was  it  the  distance, 
or  was  he  right  in  thinking  that  there 
was  a  pathetic  note  in  Emily's  voice, 
an  undertone  of  sadness  ?  An  impulse 
he  could  hardly  control  swept  over  him 
to  go  to  her  that  moment  and  look  into 
her  face  and  tell  her  that  lie  did  belong 
146 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

to  her,  and  to  her  only.  He  knew  it 
now  and  understood  what  had  kept 
him  all  these  years  from  other  love. 
Then,  even  as  he  had  risen  impulsively 
and  stood  in  the  dark  shadows  of  the 
gallery,  as  if  doubting  what  to  do,  a 
sudden  recollection  came  to  him,  and 
noiselessly  as  he  had  entered  it  he  left 
the  church  and  came  out  alone  into  the 
summer  night. 

He  had  until  that  moment  forgotten 
Stephanie, 


147 


CHAPTEE   XII 

The  world's  infectious  ;  few  bring  back  at  eve, 
Immaculate,  the  manners  of  the  morn. 
Something  we  thought,  is  blotted  ;  we  resolved, 
Is  shaken  ;  we  renounced,  returns  again. 

YOUNG. 

"  YES,  Waldo,  you  will  find  them  a 
loyal,  united  people,  unless  they  have 
greatly  changed  in  the  years  since  I  left 
here — a  good  people  to  work  with,  and 
Thornton  is  a  good  place  if  you  want 
to  study." 

It  was  Stephen  Castle  speaking.  He 
and  Waldo  were  sitting  at  a  bare,  round 
table  on  which  stood  a  small  lamp  in 
the  midst  of  a  variety  of  miscellaneous 
articles.  They  were  in  the  sitting- 
room  of  the  Thornton  parsonage,  which 
was  a  scene  of  the  complete  confusion 
incident  to  the  early  stage  of  settling  a 
148 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

new  home.  In  the  little  room  which 
had  formerly  been  Stephen's  study 
there  stood  an  old-fashioned  sofa  of 
liberal  size,  on  which  he  was  to  sleep, 
while  Waldo  would  make  a  bed  for 
himself  on  the  parlor  floor.  Stephen 
had  been  in  the  house  for  half  an  hour, 
and  it  had  taken  nearly  all  that  time 
to  reconcile  with  Waldo's  overflowing 
hospitality  his  objections  to  letting  so 
distinguished  a  guest  share  such  poor 
accommodations  as  were  just  now  at 
his  disposal.  He  had  proposed  to  take 
Stephen  to  the  farmhouse  where  he  was 
expected  to  stay  the  following  night, 
but  Stephen  begged  so  earnestly  for  the 
favor  of  sleeping  one  night  under  the 
parsonage  roof  that  Waldo  yielded,  al 
though  with  many  misgivings.  They 
were  now  spending  an  hour  in  discuss 
ing  Thornton  and  Waldo's  prospects  in 
his  first  field  of  labor,  the  younger  man 
listening  to  Stephen's  words  as  if  each 
one  were  of  profoundest  weight.  He 
was  a  short,  slender  fellow,  Waldo, 

149 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

with  straight  hlack  hair  and  dark  eyes, 
a  thoughtful  face,  and  a  way  of  speak 
ing  which  gave  an  impression  of  almost 
intense  sincerity. 

"  Yes,  I  know  I  shall  be  happy  here," 
he  remarked  now  in  response  to  Ste 
phen's  words.  "Nelson,  you  know, 
who  followed  you,  had  a  very  good 
pastorate  here.  lie  is  abroad  now, 
studying." 

' '  Yes,  I  have  kept  track  of  his  move 
ments,  lie  is  a  good  fellow.  lie  had 
a  family,  I  believe,  did  he  not?" 

"Yes,  a  wife  and  one  child.  The 
parsonage  has  not  been  used  since  they 
left." 

"  How  is  it  with  you,  "Waldo  ?  Are 
you  going  to  housekeeping  ?  These 
preparations  look  like  it,"  Stephen  re 
marked  pleasantly. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  other,  smil 
ing  brightly :  "  my  sister  is  coming  next 
week  to  take  care  of  me.  I  have  no 
prospect  of  anything  further  than  that, 
Mr.  Castle,  at  present." 

150 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

For  a  moment  Stephen  thought  of 
Emily  Merle  over  there  in  the  church 
at  work  among  the  flowers,  and  a  vision 
of  what  might  be  filled  him  with  an  al 
most  fierce  desire  to  thwart  such  a  pos 
sibility  ;  but  he  only  said,  half  care 
lessly  : 

"  There  is  plenty  of  time  for  all  that 
sort  of  thing.  One  thing  at  a  time. 
A  man's  ordination  is  enough  of  an 
event  for  one  year." 

"Is  it  not,  indeed?"  cried  Waldo, 
an  expression  of  something  like  awe 
coming  into  his  face.  "  This  is  my  last 
night  before  it,  you  know,  and  I  am 
sure  you  understand  what  my  feeling 
must  be.  It  seems  so  glorious  a  priv 
ilege,  in  one  way,  to  be  dedicated  to 
the  one  single  lifework,  to  belong  solely 
to  Christ  and  to  carrying  His  message  ; 
but  then,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  al 
most  appalling  to  me.  The  responsi 
bility  seems  so  enormous,  the  fear  that 
the  consecration  may  not  be  complete 
comes  continually.  "Were  you  ever 
151 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

troubled  in  such  a  way,  Mr.  Castle?" 
and  the  young  man  looked  appealingly 
into  Stephen's  eyes. 

The  latter  could  only  bow  his  head. 

"  I  am  afraid  it  is  presuming  of  me 
to  ask  such  questions  of  a  man  like 
you,  who  are  so  far  beyond  me  in  every 
way,"  Waldo  continued  diffidently  ; 
''  I  know  it  must  seem  weak  and  cow 
ardly  to  you.  It  is  not  that  I  fear  that 
too  much  is  exacted  of  sacrifice  and  all 
that.  I  think  I  need  not  say  that  I 
have  counted  the  cost,  and  have  left  all 
to  follow  Him,  as  Peter  said.  I  do  not 
even  feel  this  part  to  be  a  sacrifice.  It 
does  not  seem  as  if  death  itself  for  Him 
would  l)e  hard,"  and  as  he  spoke  the 
earnestness  of  the  young  face  witnessed 
to  his  sincerity,  and  Stephen  found  it 
hard  to  meet  his  look  :  "  but  what  I 
feel  is  my  own  un  worthiness  to  enter  so 
high  a  calling  ;  the  danger  that  I  may 
bring  reproach  upon  His  name,  even,'' 
and  his  voice  fell  and  his  face  clouded, 
"  that  I  might  seek  myself  in  my  work, 

152 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

instead  of  His  will  and  the  saving  of 
men." 

Stephen  murmured  a  half-articulate 
response,  for  Waldo's  words  were  like 
a  sword  piercing  his  soul. 

' '  Mr.  Castle, ' '  the  young  man  asked 
humbly,  u  you  have  gone  far  beyond 
me  in  knowledge  and  experience.  I 
know  through  the  people  here  how  ex 
alted  your  spiritual  life  has  always  been. 
May  I  ask  you,  because  you  have  won 
the  victory  over  dangers  and  tempta 
tions  like  these,  to  pray  for  me,  that  I 
may  be  saved  from  them,  weak  as  I 
know  myself  to  be  ?" 

Stephen  could  not  meet  a  request  like 
this  with  mere  assent.  He  was  honest. 
Rising  from  the  table,  he  held  out  his 
hand  and  took  that  of  "Waldo,  who  saw 
with  surprise  the  emotion  in  his  face. 

"  I  will  pray  for  you,  my  dear  fel 
low,  you  may  be  sure.  The  dangers 
you  speak  of  are  real  dangers.  I  have 
met  them,  and  the  victory  has  not  al 
ways  been  mine,  as  you  suppose.  Good- 
153 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

night,  I  believe  I  am  tired,"1  and  lie 
took  the  candle  which  was  ready  for 
him  and  abruptly  went  to  his  room. 

"Waldo,  left  to  himself,  reflected  that 
this  abruptness  was,  perhaps,  a  touch 
of  the  fjrand  selfjncur  manner  which 
one  must  expect  in  successful  men,  but 
of  which  he  had  until  now  seen  nothing 
in  Mr.  Castle,  and  himself  made  ready 
for  the  night. 

It  was  the  following  evening,  and 
the  Thornton  church  was  crowded  to 
the  doors.  From  all  the  country  side 
the  farmers'  families  had  driven  over 
to  the  ordination  ceremonies,  and  even 
more  especially  to  hear  Stephen  Castle 
preach.  Tie  had  been  a  favorite  among 
church-going  people  far  and  wide  when 
he  was  the  young  pastor  in  Thornton; 
now  he  had  become  a  noted  city  preach 
er,  and  great  was  the  curiosity  to  see 
and  hear  him.  From  Pembroke  and 
all  the  neighboring  villages,  large  num 
bers  of  the  clergy  and  more  prominent 
laity  had  come,  and  "Winchester  had 
154 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

contributed  its  delegation  of  theolo 
gians,  who,  with  their  grave  and  dig 
nified  presence,  had  lent  impressiveness 
to  the  exercises  of  the  day. 

The  order  of  the  evening  was  the  for 
mal  consecration  of  the  candidate, 
young  Waldo,  to  the  ministry  of  Christ, 
by  the  laying  on  of  hands.  After  this 
ceremony,  noble  and  affecting  in  its 
simplicity,  Stephen  Castle  was  to 
preach. 

His  whole  environment  was  sur 
charged  with  suggestions  of  his  past. 
Around  him  sat  the  venerable  profess 
ors  from  Winchester,  under  whose  train 
ing  his  own  preparation  for  the  minis 
try  had  been  made,  and  a  number  of 
clergymen  who  had  been  his  friends  in 
the  days  of  his  Thornton  pastorate, 
stalwart  men  with  manly  faces.  At 
his  right,  and  so  near  that  his  hand 
could  have  touched  him,  was  Waldo, 
with  the  high  consecration  of  the  hour 
visible  in  his  face — a  face  made  strange 
ly  beautiful  by  the  man's  spirit.  In 

153 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

him  Stephen  seemed  to  see  his  own 
former  self,  before  he  had  been  forced 
to  ' '  travel  daily  farther  from  the  east, : ' 
and  see  the  "vision  splendid"  of  his 
youth  "  fade  into  the  light  of  common 
day.' ' 

Before  him,  among  the  solid  mass  of 
men  and  women  whose  faces  were 
turned  expectantly  to  him,  were  his  old 
friends,  true  and  tried  ;  plain,  simple- 
hearted  folk  who  had  faithfully  loved 
him,  and  loved  and  honored  him  still, 
far,  he  felt,  beyond  his  due.  Almost 
hidden  by  the  bowers  of  greenery  which 
her  hands  had  fashioned  in  the  spaces 
at  the  side  of  the  pulpit,  to  conceal  the 
bareness  of  the  walls,  sat  Emily  Merle. 


156 


CHAPTER   XIII 

Though  thou  loved  her  as  thyself, 

As  a  self  of  purer  clay, 

Though  her  parting  dims  the  day, 

Stealing  grace  from  all  alive  ; 

Heartily  know, 

When  half-gods  go, 

The  gods  arrive. 

EMERSON. 

As  he  stood,  during  the  singing  of 
"  Coronation,"  which  preceded  the  ser 
mon,  Stephen  had  looked  at  Emily, 
whom  he  had  hardly  been  able  to  speak 
with  all  through  the  day,  and  in  a 
strange  flash  of  imagination  or  percep 
tion,  he  hardly  knew  which  it  might  be, 
the  personality  of  Stephanie  Loring 
came  before  him,  as  if  the  two  women 
stood  together  in  his  sight,  and  in  them 
selves  showed  forth  the  two  influences 
which  had  ruled  his  life.  Both  were 
157 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

beautiful,  both  corresponded  to  power 
ful  instincts  of  his  nature,  but  how 
widely  they  differed  !  In  Stephanie, 
Stephen  saw  a  full  and  perfect  manifes 
tation  of  art  in  the  highest  sense,  while 
in  Emily  was  as  clear  an  embodiment 
of  truth. 

"With  Stephanie,  all  the  natural  re 
sources  of  life  were  means  adapted  to 
an  end,  and  that  end  beauty,  harmony, 
delight — a  fair  end  and  well  attained— 
the  proper  aim  of  art.  Art  was  in  her 
face,  in  her  voice,  in  her  conversation, 
her  motions,  her  dress,  her  intellectual 
activities — in  fine,  in  all  that  belonged 
to  her  and  that  surrounded  her.  And 
in  that  expression  of  harmony  and 
beauty  he  had  found  pleasure  of  a  high 
quality  ;  but  the  one  thing  which  he 
had  failed  to  find  was  satisfaction. 

In  Emily  ]\Ierle.  Stephen  recognized 
the  very  opposite  type  of  womanhood. 
Truth  was  the  vital  principle,  the  rul 
ing  force  in  her  nature  and  in  her  life. 
Xot  truth  in  cold,  bare  outlines,  but 
158 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

made  warm  and  radiant  by  a  loving, 
womanly  nature,  with  an  endless  capac 
ity  for  giving  itself  for  others.  As  cer 
tain  elements  in  his  own  nature  had 
leaped  to  meet  the  wonderful  charm  of 
Stephanie,  when  he  saw  her  first  in  his 
boyish  inexperience,  so  now,  but  with 
far  greater  power,  did  other  and  deeper 
elements  rise  to  the  sense  of  beauty  in 
the  character  of  Emily  Merle.  But 
Stephen  held  himself  in  hand.  The 
thought  of  Stephanie  was  always  with 
him  now,  and  he  knew  himself  to  be 
pledged  to  her,  and  no  longer  free  to 
yield  to  the  influence  of  another  wom 
an.  He  could  not  regret  the  step 
which  he  had  taken,  it  had  belonged  to 
the  very  nature  of  things,  but  he  saw 
in  the  life  before  him  hopeless  confu 
sion. 

Aroused  from  the  condition  of  intense 
introspection  into  which  he  had  fallen, 
by  the  cessation  of  the  music  and  the 
rustle  of  garments  as  the  congregation 
resumed  their  seats,  Stephen  came  for- 
159 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

ward,  a  hush  of  eager  expectancy  per 
vading  the  house. 

The  text  which  he  announced  con 
sisted  of  but  three  words  :  "  "VYho  emp 
tied  Himself."  It  was  not  the  text 
which  he  had  selected  the  day  before 
on  his  journey  to  Thornton,  nor  the  ser 
mon  which  he  had  then  elaborated  out 
of  philosophical  and  poetical  elements, 
after  his  present  method  of  sermon  mak 
ing,  and  with  perhaps  more  thought  for 
the  Doctors  of  Divinity  who  would 
hear  him  than  for  the  rustic  folk  of  his 
old  church.  In  the  preceding  night, 
after  his  interview  with  Waldo,  Stephen 
had  found  that  to  preach  that  sermon 
had  become  an  impossibility.  A  pro 
found  desire  had  taken  possession  of 
him  to  fling  aside  forever  the  artificial 
methods,  in  which  the  aesthetic  and  the 
literary  predominated,  and  return  to 
the  simple  preaching  of  a  simple  gospel. 
And  to-night  he  did  it.  More  than  to 
others  he  was  preaching  to  himself, 
with  searching  and  deliberate  directness. 
160 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

The  country  people,  who  were  await 
ing  a  brilliant  display  of  rhetoric  and 
dramatic  oratory,  listened  at  first  with 
a  distinct  sense  of  disappointment. 
The  learned  men  around  him  praised 
him  in  their  hearts  for  the  restraint  and 
simplicity  of  his  speech,  realizing  the 
temptation  to  sacrifice  these  to  the  de 
sire  to  produce  a  strong  personal  im 
pression.  But  as  Stephen  approached 
the  close  of  his  sermon  the  disappoint 
ment  of  the  one  class  and  the  approval 
of  the  other  wrere  alike  forgotten  in  the 
overmastering  power  of  his  utterance. 
Never  before  had  he  spoken  as  he  spoke 
to-night,  perhaps  never  wrould  he  again, 
for  this  w^as  the  supreme  hour  of  crisis 
in  his  life,  the  flood-tide  of  his  experi 
ence.  All  of  the  despair,  the  remorse, 
and  the  humiliation  which  in  the  past 
wreeks  he  had  suffered  ;  all  of  the  con 
flict  and  battle  he  had  waged  with  the 
baser  elements  of  his  own  soul  ;  all  of 
the  profound  sorrow  with  which  he 
mourned  his  failure,  and  his  sharp  con- 
161 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

demnation  of  the  unconscious  selfish 
ness  of  his  purposes  ;  all  the  new  aspira 
tion  of  his  faith  and  the  desire  for  purer 
service  and  a  single  aim,  were  fused 
into  the  solemn  appeal  with  which  he 
closed.  His  fine  physique  seemed  to 
assume  a  power  beyond  itself  ;  his  face 
was  illuminated  by  a  spiritual  light 
which  made  it  "  as  it  had  been  the  face 
of  an  angel."  It  was  the  hour  of  the 
return  to  truth  and  unity  of  purpose  of 
a  great  soul,  greatly  confused  and  gone 
astray. 

Afterward  Stephen  said  that  he  did  not 
preach  that  sermon,  he  experienced  it. 

Breathless,  the  congregation  sat  for 
a  moment,  and  then  together  rose  and 
sang 

"  The  Son  of  God  goes  forth  to  war 
A  kingly  crown  to  gain." 

The  service  was  over,  the  excitement 
of  receiving  hundreds  of  eager  men  and 
women,  who  had  pressed  to  the  pulpit 
stairs  to  touch  his  hand,  had  reached 
its  height  and  subsided,  and  Stephen 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

stood  leaning  against  a  pillar,  exhaust 
ed  with  the  tension  of  the  past  hour. 
A  little  knot  of  people  still  surrounded 
him,  but  the  church  was  nearly  empty 
and  the  hour  was  late. 

Lina  Barry,  married  now,  had 
brought  her  sleepy,  flaxen-haired  boy  ; 
and  her  mother  and  a  few  others  lin 
gered  still,  among  them  Mrs.  "Wescott. 
As  of  old,  she  had  more  to  say  than  the 
others. 

"  I'll  tell  you  jest  what  it  is,  now. 
Elder  Castle,"  she  began  ;  "  you  know 
I  always  did  have  to  speak  out,  and 
you  won't  mind  me."  Here  she  paused 
to  flash  a  roguish  challenge  at  Stephen 
from  her  black  eyes,  which,  were  as 
bright  as  ever,  in  spite  of  the  deep  lines 
which  the  years  had  cut  around  them. 

"  ]S"o,  I  won't  mind  you,"  Stephen 
smiled  back  languidly. 

""Well,   when  you  first  begun,  and 

after  you'd  gone  on  for  quite  a  piece, 

thinks  I,  '  Well,  now  I  don't  know — I 

guess,  after  all,  Elder  Castle  don't  beat 

163 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

our  little  minister.  He  can  come  up  to 
this.'  But  by  and  by  you  got  to  goin', 
along  there  where  you  brought  in  about 
lay  in'  aside  every  weight,  and  all  that, 
and  I  tell  you  I  had  to  give  in  then  ! 
I  never  heard  anybody  preach  in  my 
life  like  that.  You  preached  me  right 
off  the  seat !" 

At  this  moment  Emily  Merle  came  up 
to  the  little  group,  and  "  Lee"  paused  in 
her  voluble  speech.  Emily  had  a  letter  in 
her  hand,  which  she  held  out  to  Stephen. 

"  Some  of  the  men  have  been  up  to 
the  post-office,"'  she  said  quietly,  '"'  and 
this  letter  has  come  for  you." 

Stephen  took  the  letter  in  his  hand. 
The  envelope  was  large  and  square  and 
bore  a  crest  upon  the  seal.  The  hand 
writing  of  the  address  was  altered  by 
physical  weakness,  but  he  knew  it  to 
be  that  of  Stephanie.  Excusing  him 
self  to  his  friends,  he  left  the  church  as 
quickly  as  he  could,  but  not  before  Em 
ily  [Merle  had  seen  that  he  had  grown 
white  to  the  lips. 

164 


CHAPTER   XIV 

Measure  thy  life  by  loss  instead  of  gain  ; 
Not  by  the  wine  drunk,  but  the  wine  poured  forth. 
UGO  BASSI'S  SERMON. 

"  You  are  noble  and  knightlike,  and 
I  reverence  you.  My  heart  thanks  you 
for  what  you  offer,  but  it  is  not  to  be. 
Your  love  would  be  loyal,  but  it  would 
be  cold  forever,  for  it  is  not  possible  for 
a  nature  like  yours  to  respond  fully  to 
mine. 

"  Let  us  be  satisfied.  It  is  much  to 
have  known  each  other. 

"  I  am  stronger,  and  shall  sail  soon 
for  a  Mediterranean  port.  I  may  be 
away  a  year.  "When  I  return  I  shall 
hope  to  see  you  again.  Till  then, 

good-by. 

"  STEPHANIE." 
165 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

This  was  the  letter  which  Stephen 
Castle  opened  and  read,  when,  after  re 
peated  delays,  he  at  last  gained  the 
seclusion  of  the  best  bedroom  of  the 
farmhouse  where  lie  was  to  spend  the 
night. 

His  tears  fell  upon  the  sheet  as  he 
read.  She  was  wise,  his  beautiful, 
clear-eyed  friend.  His  heart  justified 
her  words,  but  it  ached  for  the  sharp 
break  which  they  commanded,  and  for 
the  sense,  which  can  never  come  to  a 
human  heart  without  pain,  that  "the 
old  order  changeth. 

Stephen  read  the  letter  over  the  sec 
ond  time  and  the  third,  and  reverently 
kissed  the  name  "Stephanie"  at  the 
close  ;  then,  no  less  reverently  and  ten 
derly,  he  held  the  folded  sheet  in  the 
flame  of  his  candle,  until  it  turned  to  a 
film  of  ashes  and  crumbled  from  his 
fingers  into  dust.  As  he  watched  the 
paper  shrivel  and  fall  Stephen  felt, 
rather  than  promised,  that  no  human 
being  should  ever  learn  from  him  this 
166 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

phase  of  the  relation  between  himself 
and  Stephanie.  They  had  been  good 
friends,  nothing  more. 

The  next  morning  he  met  Emily 
Merle  before  the  church — he  was  not 
inclined  to  hurry  away  from  Thornton 
as  he  would  have  done  before  receiving 
Stephanie's  letter — .and  said  : 

"  There  is  a  walk  that  you  and  I 
must  take  together,  Emily.  Let  us  go 
now.  • ' 

"Where  is  it?  To  the  Hollow 
Rocks  ?  That  used  to  be  your  favorite 
walk,  I  remember,"  Emily  responded. 
She  was  looking  as  bright  and  radiant 
as  the  June  morning,  as  she  stood  un 
der  the  old  maple-trees  which  guarded 
the  church. 

"  Yes,  you  ever-superior  young  wom 
an.  With  your  usual  discernment,  you 
have  dived  into  the  recesses  of  my  being 
and  dragged  out  its  profoundest  inten 
tions,"  and  they  walked  on  through  the 
village  street,  talking  gayly,  Emily  giv 
ing  an  unspoken  consent  to  Stephen's 
167 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

wish.  Her  hands  were  full  of  flowers, 
still  fresh,  from  the  decorations  of  the 
church,  which  she  told  him  she  must 
take  to  two  or  three  house-bound  old 
women,  who  had  been  unable  to  share 
in  the  great  event  of  yesterday. 

"  You  are  still  the  guardian  angel  of 
the  parish,  I  see.  Emily,"  Stephen  said, 
as  he  took  a  basket  of  roses  from  her 
hand.  "  I  will  go  with  you  and  see 
the  poor  old  bodies.  Perhaps  they  will 
still  remember  me." 

"  Remember  you  !  Why,  they  talk 
of  you  as  if  you  were  next  of  kin  to  the 
angels.  You  cannot  understand.  Mr. 
Castle,  how  our  Thornton  people  adore 
you.  I  am  sure  I  don't  see  why  they 
should,"  Emily  added  mischievously. 

'•'  You  have  not  forgotten  to  be  dis 
respectful,  I  see,"  laughed  Stephen  ; 
'•'  and  you  just  now  transgressed  a  plain 
compact  which  exists  between  us  when 
you  called  me  Mr.  Castle.  Please  do 
not  let  it  occur  again,  as  the  professors 
used  to  say  to  us  in  college  after  we 

168 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

had  committed  some  undergraduate 
crime. ' ' 

"  Very  well,"  replied  Emily  in  her 
firm,  clear-cut  fashion  of  speech,  which 
in  its  freedom  from  consciousness  Ste 
phen  found  peculiarly  pleasing.  ' '  But 
I  started  to  say  that  it  is  so  unreason 
ably  hard  for  these  men  to  follow  you 
here  in  Thornton.  ~No  matter  how 
faithful  a  man  may  be,  or  how  well  he 
may  preach,  the  people  simply  say, 
'  But  he  is  not  Elder  Castle  !  '  and  the 
poor  man  is  condemned,  as  if  he  want 
ed  to  be  Elder  Castle,  or  could  be  if  he 
would  !" 

"  But  AValdo,  it  is  different  with 
him  ?  I  am  sure  the  people  have  taken 
him  into  their  hearts,  as  they  ought  to. 
He  is  a  thoroughly  fine  fellow.  Don't 
you  think  so,  Emily  ?" 

' '  Oh,  yes,  indeed,  but  still — he  is  not 
Elder  Castle  !"  and  with  a  bright  color 
in  her  cheeks  Emily  looked  up  archly 
at  Stephen,  and  they  laughed  together, 
the  spontaneous  laughter  of  two  per- 
169 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

sons  who  find  perfect  content  in  each 
other's  presence. 

They  had  reached  the  first  cottage 
now  where  Emily's  flowers  were  to  be 
delivered,  and  so  went  in  together  and 
sat  for  a  few  moments  in  the  dull,  low- 
ceiled  room ,  which  their  presence  seem*  ><  1 
almost  miraculously  to  brighten  to  its 
pa  in- worn  inmate.  Other  calls  fol 
lowed,  and  the  dew  was  off  the  grass, 
and  the  sun  high,  and  the  shade  re 
freshing,  when  they  reached  the  cool 
recesses  of  the  glen  known  as  the  ''  Hol 
low  Hocks,"  where  the  Thornton  River 
pauses  in  its  noisy  course  to  fill  a  silent 
pool,  shut  in  by  pine-trees  and  great 
masses  of  mossy  rock. 

It  had  been  a  favorite  place  with  Ste 
phen  when  he  lived  in  Thornton,  and 
he  threw  himself  upon  the  gray  old 
boulder  which  had  been  his  especial 
resting-place  in  those  days  with  a  sigh 
of  satisfaction,  while  Emily  found  a 
niche  in  the  rock  just  above  him,  where 
she  made  herself  comfortable. 

170 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"  Do  you  know,  my  little  friend,  I 
begin  to  believe  that  there  is  something 
in  the  Antaeus  myth,  as  there  usually  is 
in  the  fables  of  those  old  Greeks  ?  I 
am  willing  to  assert  that  there  is  posi 
tive  virtue  in  this  contact  with  the  earth, 
and,  by  the  same  token,  with  primitive 
forces  in  other  kinds. ' ' 

' '  Primitive  folks,  for  instance  ! ' ' 
"Yes,  primitive  folks,  too,  if  you 
please,  like  Emily  Merle."  Then,  with 
a  sudden  gravity  which  she  found  by  a 
glance  in  his  face  was  not  assumed,  he 
continued,  half  musingly  : 

O    v 

"  Would  it  surprise  you,  I  wonder, 
to  know  how  much  I  have  needed  a  re 
newal  of  strength  ?  Perhaps  you  did 
not  know  that  I  have  been  a  melan 
choly  failure  as  pastor  of  All  Good 
Spirits?" 

"  ]STo  !  I  supposed  you  had  been  a 
brilliant  success." 

' '  Ah,  Emily,  T  beg  you  never  to  use 
those  words  again  of  me  or  of  any  other 
Christian  minister  !  They  are  not  ac- 

171 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

cording  to  your  own  thought.  You 
have  borrowed  them  from  the  phraseol 
ogy  which  belongs  to  a  special  modern 
misconception  of  the  ministry.  To  be 
brilliant,  that  is,  to  make  yourself  felt 
to  your  last  reserves,  and  as  much  more 
as  you  can  borrow  ;  to  be  successful, 
that  is,  to  have  crowds  come  to  hear 
you  and  praise  you,  and  dine  you  and 
wine  you  and  flatter  you,  that  is  the 
Jin  de  siecle  ideal  of  success  in  the  min 
istry  of  Christ  with  a  large  class  of 
church-going  people. ' ' 

"  Oh,  but  no,  Stephen  !  I  cannot 
believe  that  is  true." 

' '  Xaturally  you  cannot,  and  it  is  not 
true  of  the  church  at  large.  God  for 
bid  that  I  should  say  it  was  !  I  only 
tell  you  what  I  know  to  be  true  in  cer 
tain  circles,  and  I  know  of  what  I  speak 
only  too  well.  The  result  is  the  man 
becomes  at  heart  an  egoist.  Either 
this,  or  he  is  very  great,  greater  than 
I  can  ever  be,"  and  Emily  saw  with 
keen  sympathy  the  unfeigned  sadness 

172 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

and  humility  in  Stephen's  face.      She 
could  not  reply,  and  he  went  on  : 

"The  old  word  of  Paul,  M  deter 
mined  to  know  nothing  among  you 
save  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified,' 
is  translated  sometimes  in  the  church 
of  to-day  as  the  motto  for  its  leader, 
'  I  determined  to  know  everything 
among  you  save  Jesus  Christ  and  Him 
crucified.'  Everything — art,  fashion, 
society,  music,  the  drama,  the  latest 
literature  of  all  nations,  philosophy, 
poetry,  economics,  politics,  all  these 
and  all  else  that  goes  to  make  up  the 
life  of  the  world  he  must  know  arid 
use." 

"  Did  you  comprehend  this  in  the  be 
ginning  of  your  pastorate  of  All  Good 
Spirits?" 

"  In  part  ;  and  I  went  in  to  win.  I 
felt  myself  strong,  and  even  longed,  in 
a  way,  to  try  my  strength.  My 
thought  was  to  make  the  church  over, 
to  purify  and  exalt  it. ' ' 

"  But  you  found  it  impossible  ?" 
173 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

';  For  a  man  of  my  temperament, 
hopelessly  so.  It  was  I  who  was  made 
over,  Emily,  until  I  became  altogether 
such  as  the  rest.  Practically  our 
church  life  was  an  elevated  form  of 
club  life,  in  which  the  moral  and  intel 
lectual  and  ;esthetic  lines  were  cultiva 
ted,  and  the  members  were  held  to 
gether  by  a  kind  of  social  cohesion, 
awfully  unlike  the  sweet  old  notion  of 
fellowship  in  Christ." 

"  But,  Stephen,  you  must  have  gained 
something  from  this  experience.  The 
time  cannot  have  been  all  lost,  nor  the 
effort." 

"'  That  is  true.  In  certain  ways  I 
have  gained  much.  I  have  learned, 
what  I  should  never  have  learned  else 
where,  to  have  sympathy  for  the  pecu 
liar  temptations  and  characteristics  of 
the  fashionable  and  aristocratic  class 
which  belongs  to  our  modern  civiliza 
tion  just  as  it  has  to  every  other.  Per 
haps  it  is  in  the  Divine  economy 
that  this  leisure  class  should  exist,  if 

174 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

for  nothing  else,  to  furnish  employment 
for  the  strata  below  it  by  the  multitude 
of  its  artificial  needs. ' ' 

' '  But  there  are  lovely  people  among 
them,  people  like  Miss  Loring,  for  in 
stance.  ' ' 

"  Yes,  I  have  found  many  unselfish 
and  noble  spirits  in  my  church,  as  far 
as  their  personal  qualities  are  con 
cerned,  persons  of  exquisite  fibre.  But, 
after  all,  it  is  hot-house  life.  They  are 
like  exotics.  Their  development  is  not 
along  natural  lines.  Their  needs  are 
artificial,  their  outlook  upon  life  and 
its  demands  is  utterly  unreal.  They 
see  it  all  as  through  a  colored  light. 
Almost  unconsciously  they  come  to  feel 
that  the  world  exists  for  them,  not  they 
for  the  world  and  its  needs,  according 
to  the  Christian  theory. ' ' 

' '  And  perhaps  they  are  no  more  to 
blame  than  others  are  for  their  especial 
misconceptions. ' ' 

"  That  is  just.  There  are  many 
ways  in  which  I  have  learned  of  my 
175 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

people  what  has  greatly  enriched  my 
life.  "We  must  admit,  Emily,  that 
what  were  in  some  sort  the  crowning 
virtues  of  our  fathers  are  no  longer  ac 
cording  to  the  all-powerful  spirit  of  the 
age — the  rigid  austerity,  the  merciless 
intensity  of  conviction,  and  the  intoler 
ance  which  it  produced  !  I  shall  never 
be  again  the  man  who  used  to  preach 
in  the  church  yonder,  nor  do  I  wish  to 
be.  I  am  glad  for  the  experiences 
which  have  softened  my  nature  and 
broadened  my  charity.  ]\Iy  poor  mo 
ther  could  not  go  through  with  the 
process  of  transition  ;  it  simply  was  fa 
tal  to  her,  but  the  change  was  inevita 
ble.  The  Puritan  mould,  intact  as  it 
has  been  kept  in  our  line,  is  broken  in 
me,  nor  do  I  deplore  it,  except  as  a 
matter  of  sentiment.  The  men  of  the 
last  century  did  their  work  well.  An 
other  type  of  men  is  needed  now  to  do 
the  work  of  the  world,  of  extensive 
rather  than  intensive  moral  quality, 
with  wider  sympathies  and  with  a  faith 
176 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

built  upon  the  universal  human  needs, 
not  upon  the  conception  of  an  individ 
ual  or  a  class. ' ' 

' '  I  have  felt  this,  even  here. ' ' 

11  Of  course  you  have,  because  you 
think  for  yourself,  and  are  ready  to  see 
the  truth,  even  if  it  declares  war  upon 
our  old  traditions.  However,  we  have 
reached  a  point  now  where  I  can  tell 
you  that  I  am  on  the  point  of  preparing 
my  resignation  as  pastor  of  All  Good 
Spirits." 

"  It  does  not  greatly  surprise  me 
now,  although  it  seems  sudden." 

"  It  is  less  so  than  it  seems.  It  must 
have  come,  but  certain  things  have  pre 
cipitated  it  ;  that  young  pastor  of  yours 
helped,  with  that  pure  face  of  his,  and 
the  questions  he  had  to  ask  me  the  other 
night.  Of  course  I  could  go  back  and 
try  it  over,  but  I  see  how  it  would  re 
sult.  The  side  of  my  nature  to  which 
the  spirit  of  my  present  church  appeals 
is  too  strong  to  play  with.  I  do  not 
trust  myself.  There  is  just  one  work 

177 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

which  I  believe  I  dare  to  try  to  do, 
which  I  believe  God  means  to  give  me, 
if  I  am  not  unworthy  to  continue  in 
His  service." 

"  And  tell  me  what  it  is,  this  work.-' 
"  It  is  in  lower  Xew  York,  Emily  ; 
but  you  do  not  know  what  that  means. 
You  read  of  the  '  submerged  tenth, ' 
and  you  see  a  few  poor  folks  here  in 
Thornton  with  all  the  sweet  air  and 
sunshine  in  the  world  to  live  in,  and 
you  try  to  imagine  what  the  poverty  in 
great  cities  is,  but  you  cannot.  It 
means  all  that  is  coarse  and  low  and  re 
pulsive  ;  evil  which  flaunts,  not  hides 
itself.  But  that  is  the  life  into  which, 
by  the  grace  of  God,  I  intend  to  go, 
and  in  which  I  shall  remain.  I  worked 
the  problem  out  last  night.  It  took  all 
night  to  do  it,  because  I  knew  what  it 
meant,  you  see,  and  I  do  not  love 
vice  and  dirt  and  the  sight  of  suffer 
ing." 

"It  is  not  well  to  sacrifice  for  the 
sake  of  sacrificing,   Stephen."     Emily 
178 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

said  this  with  luminous  eyes,   looking 
unafraid  into  his. 

' '  You  have  put  your  finger  on  a 
point  of  danger,  my  dear  girl,  but  I  be 
lieve  I  have  not  made  that  mistake. 
No,  I  am  not  seeking  to  atone  for  the 
years  in  which,  as  Newman  says,  '  pride 
ruled  my  will.'  There  is  nothing  of 
the  ascetic  in  my  nature.  It  is  this 
way  :  All  the  years  that  I  have  been  in 
All  Good  Spirits  I  have  wondered  what 
the  Lord  was  going  to  do  about  '  All 
Demons, '  so  to  say.  I  could  not  help 
knowing  the  conditions  down  there, 
physical  and  moral,  and  at  intervals  I 
would  be  forced  to  ask  myself  why  it 
might  not  be  my  duty  to  throw  myself 
into  that  same  work.  Plainly  the  need 
was  crying.  However,  I  always  es 
caped  the  question  in  one  way  or  an 
other.  Now  I  have  decided  that  it  is 
the  work  for  me  to  do. ' ' 

' '  But  has  the  work  a  definite  shape  ? 
Have  you  some  practical  line  on  which 
to  work?" 

179 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

"  Yes.  There  is  a  poor  little  half- 
deserted  chapel  down  in  Worth  Street, 
which  I  know  of,  where  a  spas 
modic  kind  of  work  has  been  done. 
I  have  some  money  myself,  and 
I  can  command  more.  I  know  I 
can  get  the  chapel,  and  I  know  I 
can  get  decent  rooms  close  by  the 
hardest  neighborhood  in  that  region, 
where  I  can  live.  Is  that  sufficiently 
definite?''  and  Stephen,  who  had 
risen  and  was  helping  Emily  down 
from  her  seat,  looked  fondly  into  her 
face. 

"Yes,  I  think  that  will  do."  she 
said. 

"  Does  it  sound  very  hard  to  you  '?'' 
lie  asked,  as  they  pushed  their  way  out 
through  interlacing  branches  to  the 
road. 

"  Xot  too  hard/'  was  the  reply. 

He  stopped  her  a  moment  at  the 
wood's  edge,  and  taking  her  hands  said 
simply  : 

'"  If  God  lets  me  do  this  work,  and 
180 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

some  day  I  come  back  to  ask  you,  do 
you  think  you  could  do  it  too  ?" 

"  I  believe  I  could,"  Emily  answered 
with  sweet  gravity,  and  they  walked 
back  toward  the  village,  not  as  they 
had  come,  but  silently. 


181 


CHAPTEE   XV 

All  truly  consecrated  men  learn  little  by  little 
that  what  they  are  consecrated  to  is  not  joy  or  sor 
row,  but  a  divine  idea  and  a  profound  obedience, 
which  can  find  their  full  outward  expression,  not 
in  joy  and  not  in  sorrow,  but  in  the  mysterious 
and  inseparable  mingling  of  the  two. 

PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

Ox  a  midwinter  Sunday  night,  a  year 
and  a  half  after  that  June  day  in  Thorn 
ton,  Stephen  Castle  is  preaching  to  a 
motley  crowd  in  the  little  down-town 
chapel  of  which  we  heard  him  speak. 
The  atmosphere  of  the  room  is  neither 
pure  nor  fragrant.  The  floors  are 
bare,  the  pews  plain  benches,  and  the 
speaker  stands  upon  a  small  platform 
destitute  of  a  pulpit.  Many  of  the  faces 
before  him  are  hard.  In  the  corner  by 
the  right  of  the  platform  a  choir  of  a 
182 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

dozen  girls  is  gathered  around  a  cahinet 
organ.  These  girls  have  an  air  of  in 
telligent  self-possession,  which  shows 
that  some  refining  influence  has  been  at 
•work  among  them,  nor  is  this  influence 
far  to  seek.  Among  them,  as  their 
leader,  with  the  pure  brow  and  clear 
eves  we  remember,  sits  the  wife  of  Ste 
phen  Castle,  Emily,  his  joy  and  crown 
of  life,  and  his  spirited  co-worker. 

While  a  hymn  is  being  sung  before 
the  sermon  the  door  opens,  and  a  lady, 
attended  by  a  maid,  enters  the  chapel. 
Stephen  Castle  does  not  see  the  stranger 
as  she  enters,  but  she  is  seen  and  recog 
nized  by  one  person  in  the  room.  There 
is  but  one  woman  whom  Emily  Castle 
has  ever  seen  whose  form  and  move 
ments  have  the  peculiar  grace  which 
marks  the  newcomer,  and  although  she 
cannot  distinctly  see  her  face  beneath 
its  veil,  she  knows  it  to  be  her  hus 
band's  old  friend,  Stephanie  Loring, 
now  the  wife  of  Lloyd  Petersham.  She 
has  been  married  while  abroad,  and 

183 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Emily  has  heard  of  her  recent  return  to 
Xew  York,  but  neither  she  nor  Stephen 
has  met  her. 

Stepping  forward,  at  the  close  of  the 
hymn,  to  the  edge  of  the  platform, 
Stephen,  with  a  small  Testament  in  his 
hand,  reads  a  few  verses  from  the  Ser 
mon  on  the  Mount.  Hardly  has  he 
read  the  verses  when  his  eye,  accus 
tomed  now  to  the  rough-hewn  type  of 
feature  of  his  chapel  hearers,  notes 
that  other  face,  and  he  knows  that  after 
many  months  he  is  again  face  to  face 

v  O 

with  Stephanie.  A  ray  of  uncontrolla 
ble  joy  in  the  recognition  crosses  his 
face,  but  as  he  goes  on  to  interpret  the 
passage  chosen,  it  is  plain  that  he  is 
neither  stimulated  nor  troubled  by  her 
presence  ;  in  fact,  it  is  for  the  time  for 
gotten,  with  every  other  personal  con 
sideration.  There  is  no  disorder  nor 
inattention  in  the  room.  Every  eye  is 
riveted  upon  the  face  of  the  preacher, 
and  the  love,  which  in  so  unusual  a  de 
gree  had  been  his  both  among  the  sina- 
184 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

pie  folk  in  Thornton  and  the  cultured 
people  in  the  Church  of  All  Good  Spir 
its,  is  seen  in  the  unwonted  gentleness 
which  softens  the  faces  of  his  hearers. 

This  experiment  has  not  failed.  The 
highest  gifts  are  not  too  high  for  use  in 
uplifting  the  lowliest,  and  all  the  grace 
and  power  and  energy  of  Stephen  Cas 
tle's  nature  are  at  work  here  among  the 
degraded  and  outcast,  and  are  rewarded. 

At  the  close  of  the  service  he  and 
Stephanie  meet,  with  a  warm  clasp  of 
the  hand.  Then  there  are  a  few  cor 
dial  inquiries  concerning  the  events  and 
changes  which  the  time  of  Stephanie's 
absence  has  brought,  her  recovery,  her 
marriage  and  his,  and  many  other 
things.  Emily  joins  them,  and  the 
women  meet  with  unaffected  kindness. 
It  is  not  until  then  that  Stephen  realizes 
how  greatly  Stephanie  has  changed. 

The  lights  in  the  chapel  are  extin 
guished,  and  the  three  come  out  to 
gether  into  the  frosty  street,  where  a 
carriage  is  waiting.  For  a  moment 

185 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Stephanie  pauses  on  the  threshold,  and 
Stephen  remains  beside  her. 

He  has  a  word  for  her  alone. 

' '  You  will  let  me  say,  will  YOU  not, 
how  glad  I  was  to  know  of  your  mar 
riage  ?  Petersham  is  the  noblest  fel 
low  !''  Stephen  speaks  low  and  ear 
nestly. 

''Yes,  we  care  for  each  other  very 
truly.  I  am  satisfied,  and  I  believe  he 
is.  Is  not  that  enough  ?  You  will 
come  to  the  house,  I  hope,  and  bring 
your  wife.  She  is  a  beautiful  woman. ' ' 

"'  It  was  kind  of  you  to  seek  us  out 
away  down  here.  I  thank  you  for 
coming. ' ' 

"I  wanted  to  see  for  myself,"  she 
says.  "  I  thought  you  were  mistaken 
in  this  hard,  hard  thing  you  have  done, 
but  I  find  I  was  the  one  mistaken. 
You  have  done  well.'' 

'*  It  is  much  to  me  to  have  you  say 
this."  Stephen  speaks  as  one  deeply 
moved. 

"Yes,  I  know.  It  must  be  so. 
186 


A  Minister  of  the  World 

Once  I  hurt  you.  I  was  cruel,  but  you 
forgave  me.  All  that  I  said  then  I  can 
unsay  now.  When  I  heard  you  preach 
to-night  I  believed  in  you  and  in  the 
Christ  you  preached.  Good-night." 

Having  thus  spoken,  Stephanie  enters 
her  carriage  ;  Stephen  joins  Emily, 
and  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  they 
go  their  different  ways. 


187 


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